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MAK  2o  1952 


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'^/,9filCAL  ^.^:^^ 


PRACTICAL  SERMOJVS, 


EXTRACTED  FROM  THE  CHRISTIAN  ADVOCATE, 


WITH  THE  CONSENT  OF  THE  AUTHOR, 


ASH  BEL  GREEN,  D.  D. 


For  Sale  by  John  C.  Clark,  JS'o.  (>0,  Dock  Street,  Philadelphia. 


NOTICE. 

With  the  consent  of  the  author,  the  printer  of  the  Chris- 
tian Advocate  struck  off  a  few  copies  of  the  following 
Sermons  from  the  types  as  they  stood;  but  on  a  paper 
superior  to  that  of  the  Magazine.  These  he  now  offers  to 
the  public  in  a  pamphlet  form.  They  admit  of  being  bound 
into  a  small  volume;  but  this  is  left  to  the  option  of  every 
purchaser.  Probably  some  who  already  have  them  as  they 
are  scattered  through  the  whole  of  the  last  volume  of  the 
Advocate,  will  wish  to  possess  them  in  a  connected  form. 


PKACTICAL.   SERMONS. 


A  UTEVr  VSAR'S  BHILJSION. 

THE  BELIEVER  WAITING  FOR  HIS  CHANGE. 

JoB,xiv.  14,  latter  part.— "All  the  days  of  my  appointed  time  will  I  wait  till  iny 

change  come." 

A  New  Year's  day  is  commonly  regarded  as  a  season  appropriated 
to  joy  and  festivity.  Whence,  my  brethren,  is  this  idea  derived?  and 
what  good  reason  can  be  assigned  for  its  indulgence?  Do  we  in- 
tend by  our  rejoicing  to  express  our  grateful  sense  of  the  Divine 
goodness,  by  which  we  have  been  preserved  through  another  year? 
This,  indeed,  is  both  rational  and  pious;  and  the  pleasure  wliich  arises 
from  such  a  source  ought  not  to  be  suppressed,  but  encouraged  and 
cherished.  Considering  however  the  general  indications  of  the  event, 
they  seem  plainly  to  direct  us  to  serious,  rather  than  to  light  and  airy 
contemplations.  The  pleasure  which  has  just  been  admitted  to  be  pro- 
per, though  real  and  exquisite,  is  of  the  serious  kind;  and  surely  nothing 
can  be  more  serious  than  to  be  reminded  that  our  lives  are  fast  hasten- 
ing to  a  close,  and  that  we  are  speedily  to  render  up  our  account  for 
every  deed  done  in  the  body, — which  is  the  most  natural  train  of  thought 
that  the  occurrence  of  a  new  year  can  suggest  to  a  considerate  and  pious 
mind.  Hence  it  happens,  that  although  the  season  is  usually  devoted 
to  unthinking  levity,  by  those  who  wish  to  escape  from  all  serious 
thought,  it  is  impossible  to  say  any  thing  of  a  religious  kind  that  shall 
be  appropriate  to  it,  without  leading  to  those  meditations  which  are  apt 
to  be  esteemed  gloomy.  I  say  for  myself,  brethren,  that  I  have  never 
been  a])le  to  frame  a  new  year's  discourse,  which  would  not  serve,  witli 
very  few  modifications,  for  a  funeral  sermon;  and  the  reason  is,  that  the 
flight  of  time,  the  shortness  and  uncertainty  of  life,  and  the  importance 
of  our  being  habitually  prepared  to  stand  before  our  final  Judge,  are 
equally  suggested  by  both  these  occasions. 

Searching  for  a  topic  which  might  give  some  variety  to  the  strain  in 
which  I  have  heretofore  addressed  you,  my  attention  has  been  drawn 
to  the  text;  which,  after  all,  can  vary  it  but  little.  It  was  originally  ut- 
tered by  Job,  in  a  meditation  he  indulged  and  to  which  he  was  led  by 
his  afflictions,  relative  to  the  vanity  of  man,  or  the  shortness  and  sor- 
rows of  human  life.  The  words  themselves  are  expressive  of  a  pious 
resolution,  patiently  to  wait  till  God  should  please  to  put  an  end  to  all 
his  sufferings  by  the  stroke  of  death:  or,  perhaps,  we  may  say  more  ge- 
nerally that  they  announce  a  determination  to  leave  quietly  to  God's  dis- 
posal all  the  events  of  life  and  death;  only  wailing  on  him  for  the  know- 
ledge of  his  will,  and  for  grace  and  strength  to  do  or  suffer  it,  till  the  final 
A 


2  TJie  Believer  waiting  for  his  Change. 

change  contemplated,  should  terminate  the  sufferer's  Aveary  pilgrimage. 
Considering  the  expression,  as  I  propose  to  do,  in  a  detached  and 
general  view,  we  may,  I  think,  without  doing  violence  to  its  natural 
import,  consider  it  us  authorizing  the  following  positions — 

I.  Thcie  is  a  purpose,  unspeakably  important,  for  which  each  of  us 
was  sent  into  this  world: 

II.  The  period  allowed  to  each  of  us,  for  the  execution  of  this  pur- 
pose, is  fixed  and  determined  by  God: 

III.  It  is  our  duty  piously  and  patiently  to  wait,  till  this  period  be 
accomplished: 

IV'.  When  it  is  terminated,  we  shall  experience  a  change  in  the 
highest  degree  important  and  decisive. 

After  l)riefly  discussing  each  of  these  points,  a  short  application 
shall  conclude  the  discourse. 

First,  then,  there  is  a  purpose,  unspeakably  important,  for  which 
each  of  us  was  sent  into  this  world.  Is  not  this  a  truth,  which  by  plain 
implication  is  taught  in  the  text?  Does  not  an  appointed  time,  waiting 
for  the  completion  of  it,  and  looking  for  a  change,  imply  that  there  is 
a  design  to  be  answered  by  our  present  situation,  as  well  as  by  that 
which  is  future?  Was  this  space  assigned  for  no  purpose?  Is  it  to  be 
a  period  of  mere  idle  and  useless  existence?  or  is  it  to  be  filled  up  at 
the  pleasure  of  every  individual,  without  any  responsibility  for  his  con- 
duct? Certainly  not — To  suppose  this,  would  be  to  impeach  the  wis- 
dom and  moral  equity  of  the  Creator.  The  intimation  is  strong  in 
the  text,  and  it  is  abundantly  confirmed  by  the  unequivocal  decisions 
both  of  reason  and  Scripture,  that  the  present  is  a  probatory  state;  a 
state  in  which  preparation  is  to  be  made,  and  a  character  to  be  formed 
for  the  eternal  A\orld.  All  that  we  see  of  man  is  a  riddle,  unless  he  is 
to  exist  beyond  the  grave;  and  unless  his  present  dispositions  and  ac- 
tions are  to  have  an  influence  there.  The  condition  of  man  at  present 
is  marked  with  the  greatest  inequalities,  and  apparent  violations  of 
equity.  The  wicked  are  often  prosperous  and  successful,  and  the  vir- 
tuous are  frequently  disappointed  and  overwhelmed  with  distress.  How 
strikingly  was  this  exemplified  in  the  case  of  the  holy  man  who  uttered 
our  text?  It  seems  neces^^ary,  then,  in  order  to  vindicate  the  moral 
government  of  the  Deity,  that  there  should  be  a  state  in  which  these 
irregularities  shall  be  equitably  adjusted;  in  which  vice  shall  be 
punished,  and  virtue  and  piety  rewarded. 

Man,  moreover,  is  endued  with  faculties  which  aim  at  objects  that, 
in  the  present  life,  he  never  attains.  With  powers  capable  of  endless 
improvement,  he  dies  almost  as  soon  as  that  improvement  is  begun. 
If  his  Creator  be,  as  we  cannot  but  conclude  that  he  is,  both  wise  and 
good,  it  is  altogether  incredible  that  a  creature  should  be  formed  by 
him  for  uniform  disappointment;  should  be  made  to  possess  powers 
which  are  never  matured,  but  invariably  blasted  in  the  bud.  These  con- 
siderations led  even  the  heathen  philosophers,  strongly  to  hope  for  and 
expect  a  life  to  come;  a  life  for  which  the  present  was  to  be  regarded 
only  as  a  period  of  preparatory  discipline,  a  state  of  infancy  and  tutelage. 
Divine  revelation  establishes  this  deduction  of  reason,  as  an  unques- 
tionable fact.  Its  whole  import  is,  that  there  is  a  future  state  of  hap- 
piness and  misery;  that  this  future  state  will  be  determined  by  our 
present  conduct;  and  to  teach  and  persuade  us  to  shun  the  evil,  and 
to  choose  the  good.  The  unequivocal  and  abundant  teaching  of  the 
holy  oracles  is — "Say  ye  to  the  righteous  that  it  shall  be  well  with  him; 
for  they  shall  cat   ihe  fruit  of  their  doings.     Wo  unto  the  wicked!  it 


The  Believer  waiting  for  his  Change.  3 

shall  be  ill  with  him,  for  the  reward  of  his  hands  shall  be  given  him — 
Be  not  deceived,  God  is  not  mocked,  whatsoever  a  man  soweth  that 
shall  he  also  reap — P'or  we  must  all  appear  before  the  judgment-seat 
of  Christ,  that  every  one  may  receive  the  things  done  in  his  body,  ac- 
cording to  that  he  hath  done,  whether  it  be  good  or  bad — and  the 
wicked  shall  go  away  into  everlasting  punishment,  but  the  righteous 
into  life  eternal."  It  appears,  then,  that  the  purpose  for  which  we 
were  sent  into  this  world  is,  to  prepare  for  another;  that  our  condition 
hereafter,  fwhich  will  be  a  condition  either  of  infinite  happiness  or  in- 
finite misery,)  will  entirely  depend  on  the  temper  which  we  have  here 
possessed,  and  the  part  which  we  have  here  acted.  How  unspeakably 
important  does  our  present  character  and  conduct  appear  in  the  light 
of  these  solemn  truths!  Consequences — eternal  in  their  duration  and 
boundless  in  their  magnitude — follow  inevitably  from  the  complexion 
of  that  moral  character  of  heart  and  life  which  we  here  possess. 
Thoughtless  and  inconsiderate  man!  awake  and  think  of  thy  situation! 
An  endless  existence  of  unutterable  joy  or  wo,  is  pending  on  what  thou 
now  art,  and  on  what  thou  now  dost.  Thou  art  now  deciding  thy  own 
condition  for  an  interminable  state  of  enjoyment  or  of  suffering — Thou 
art  now  upon  this  awful  probation!  Every  thought,  word  and  action, 
constitutes  a  part  of  it.  Every  fleeting  moment  brings  thee  nearer  to 
the  end  of  it;  nearer  to  the  time  when  the  seal  of  an  unchanging  destiny 
will  be  set  upon  thy  state.  Think  then  of  the  circumstances  in  which 
thou  art  placed;  look  into  thy  heart;  take  counsel  of  thy  conscience; 
take  heed  to  all  thy  steps;  for  nothing  ever  was  so  important  and  in- 
teresting to  thee,  as  that  thou  shouldst  be  prepared  to  go  hence  when- 
ever thou  art  called.     And  let  us  remember—- 

II.  That  the  period  of  our  departure  cannot  be  prolonged  by  any  of 
our  wishes  or  efforts,  being  fixed  and  determined  by  God.  This  is  a 
truth  to  which  the  text  directs  our  attention.  The  time  which  is  there 
mentioned  is  called  "  an  appointed  time."  And  this  appears  to  refer 
to  an  expression  still  more  explicit  in  the  fifth  verse,  where  it  is  said 
"  his  days  are  determined,  the  number  of  his  months  are  with  thee; 
thou  hast  appointed  his  bounds  that  he  cannot  pass."  Numerous  pas- 
sages of  Scripture  might  be  added  to  these,  all  going  to  establish  the 
point,  that  in  the  counsel  and  determination  of  God,  the  period  of 
human  life,  as  of  every  thing  else,  is  not  uncertain  or  fluctuating,  but 
fixed  and  decisive.  Reason,  also,  confirms  the  same  conclusion.  To 
suppose  the  Deity  either  ignorant  of  any  event,  or  changeable  in  regard 
to  it,  is  to  suppose  him  imperfect;  and  this  is  to  deny  his  essential  cha- 
racter. How  the  absolute  determinations  of  God  coincide  with  the 
freedom,  operation,  and  influence  of  second  causes,  I  pretend  not  to 
explain,  and  expect  not,  in  the  present  stale,  fully  to  understand.  But 
I  think  it  perfectly  consistent  with  this  to  say,  that  I  believe  both;  be- 
cause, on  proper  evidence,  I  ought  to  believe,  and  do  believe,  a  great 
variety  of  facts,  the  manner  of  whose  agreement  I  can  neither  illustrate 
nor  comprehend.  From  each  class  of  these  tracts,  I  also  deduce  prac- 
tical consequences  of  the  highest  importance.  In  the  instance  now 
in  view,  I  derive  from  the  assured  belief  that  means  and  instruments, 
under  the  Divine  blessing,  have  an  influence  in  preserving  life,  an  en- 
couragement to  endeavour  to  avoid  danger,  to  strive  to  preserve  my 
health,  and  to  recover  it  when  it  is  lost.  I  know  that  if  it  be  preserved 
or  restored,  it  must  usually  be  in  the  use  of  these  means;  that  the 
means  are  as  much  in  my  power  as  any  thing  whatever  can  be;  and 
that   I    am,  therefore,  blameable    if  I   neglect   them.     Consequences 


4  The  Believer  waiting  for  his  Change. 

equally  important,  T  also  draw  from  a  full  belief  of  the  other  fact — 
that  ail  depends  on  God.  I  derive  from  this  an  impressive  sense  of 
his  sovereignty,  a  conviction  of  my  being  absolutely  in  his  hand  and  at 
his  disposal,  my  obligations  to  reverence  and  fear  him,  and  the  com- 
fortable thought  that  no  accident,  and  no  design  of  any  wicked  being, 
can  destroy  my  life,  or  do  mc  any  injury,  contrary  to  his  sovereign  will. 

In  regard  to  the  subject  immediately  before  us  and  to  which  I  shall 
now  contine  myself,  the  entire  disposal  of  human  life  by  the  will  of 
our  Creator,  teaches  us  that  it  is  infinite  folly  and  presumption  to 
reckon  with  certainty  on  a  long  continuance  here;  and  especially  on  a 
period  in  which  we  may  indulge  in  sin.  How  wicked,  how  infatuated, 
to  calculate  on  having  a  protracted  space  to  offend  that  God  in  whose 
hand  our  life  is,  and  who  can  cut  it  short  at  any  moment?  What!  shall 
we  expect  that  Heaven  will  grant  us  time  to  be  employed  in  insulting 
it!  Verily  if  it  be  granted,  it  is  likely  to  be  granted  not  in  mercy,  but  in 
judgment  to  the  presumptuous  sinner — granted  that  he  may  have  time 
to  fill  up  the  measure  of  his  iniquity,  and  become  ripe  for  a  more  awful 
doom.  But  experience  as  well  as  reason,  teaches  us  that  it  is  folly 
without  a  parallel,  to  reckon  with  certainty  on  length  of  days.  We 
sec  that  (Jod's  appointed  time  for  different  individuals  leaves  no  room 
for  such  a  calculation.  At  all  periods,  from  infancy  to  old  age,  we  see 
our  fellows  finishing  the  space  assigned  them.  Reasons  not  fully 
known  to  us,  but  doubtless  wise  and  sufficient  in  themselves,  decide 
that  one  shall  have  a  longer,  and  another  a  shorter  period  Time 
enough,  is  allowed  to  each  to  be  prepared  for  that  account  which  he 
will  be  called  upon  to  render  up;  for  this  account  will  be  proportioned 
to  the  means  and  opportunities  enjoyed.  But,  when  called,  neither 
youth,  nor  health,  nor  prudence,  nor  friends,  nor  physicians,  nor  wealth, 
nor  esteem,  can  disappoint  or  delay  the  fixed  purpose  of  Jehovah.  He 
will  not  be  influenced  by  any  of  these  circumstances  or  considerations, 
but  the  stroke  of  death  shall  unavoidably  do  its  office,  on  him  who  has 
lived  his  appointed  time.     Let  us  now  consider — 

HI.  That  it  is  our  duty  piously  and  patiently  to  wait  till  this  period  be 
accomplished.  This  was  the  resolution  of  holy  Job,  as  expressed  in  the 
text.  "All  the  days  of  my  appointed  time  will  1  wait" — Taking  this 
subject,  as  I  have  proposed,  in  a  general  view,  it  may  be  affirmed  with 
propriety,  that  the  duty  of  waiting  for  our  great  change  comprehends 
in  if,  1.  Preparation  or  readiness  to  depart;  2.  Expectation  or  desire 
of  the  destint-d  moment;  T).  Patience  while  it  is  delayed,  or  acquiescence 
in  the  will  of  Him  whose  coming  or  determination  we  look  for.  It  will 
1  think  be  found,  that  to  ivait,  always  refers  to  some  one  of  these  ideas, 
or  to  the  wliole  of  them  united. 

1.  It  implies  preparation  or  readiness  to  depart.  When  we  wait  for  an 
event,  the  implication  ever  is,  that,  let  it  come  whenever  it  may,  it  will 
find  us  in  a  state  promptly  to  obey  its  call— with  every  thing  done 
which  is  necessary  lo  be  done,  or  which  we  wish  to  do,  before  its  oc- 
currence. We  cannot  be  said  to  be  waiting  for  our  departure  out  of 
time  into  eternity,  unless  we  are  thus  circumstanced,  in  regard  to  that 
momentous  transition— unless  all  that  is  necessary  to  fit  us  for  it,  and 
render  it  a  happy  event  to  us,  is  fully  accomplished. 

What  then,  my  hearers,  is  necessary,  to  render  our  departure  from 
life  a  hap|)y  event."  It  is,  be  assured,  essentially  necessary,  that  our 
natures  should  be  renewed— that  our  hearts  should  be  changed  and 
sanctified  by  the  Spirit  of  grace.  For—"  except  a  man  be  born  again 
he  cannot  see  the  kingdom  of  God."     Every  one  of  us  possesses,  by 


The  Believer  waiting  for  his  Change.  5 

nature,  a  heart  wholly  depraved — "The  carnal  mind  is  enmity  against 
God."  This  enmity  must  be  removed;  this  heart  of  alienation  must 
be  taken  away — or  we  can  never  be  partakers  of  the  happiness  of  the 
world  to  come.  It  becomes  impossible,  because,  without  holiness,  God 
will  never  admit  us  to  his  blissful  presence;  and  even  if  he  would, 
we  should  be  miserable  siill,for  the  want  of  that  temper,  taste,  and  dis- 
position, which  are  necessary  to  qualify  us  to  enter  into  and  enjoy  the 
pure  and  spiritual  exercises  which  constitute  the  happiness  of  glorified 
spirits.  And  as  this  change  is  absolutely  indispensable,  so  it  is  equally 
necessary  that  it  take  place  in  the  present  life;  for  after  death  there 
can  be  no  change.  Then  it  will  be  said — "  He  that  is  unjust  let  him 
be  unjust  still;  and  he  that  is  filthy  let  him  be  filthy  still."  The  Holy 
Spirit  is  the  Almighty  agent  who  performs  this  work;  and  hence 
the  inspired  declaration  that  we  must  be  "  born  of  the  Spirit."  He 
raiust  enlighten  us  to  see  our  guilt  and  danger.  He  must  give  us  eyes 
to  behold,  and  a  disposition  to  accept  of  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  as  all 
our  salvation  and  all  our  desire — trusting  entirely  to  his  merits  for 
pardon  and  eternal  life.  The  influence  of  the  Holy  Spirit  must  bring 
us  truly  to  loath  and  repent  of  all  sin;  to  see  its  abominable  nature;  to 
desire  most  earnestly  and  sincerely,  a  deliverance  from  it;  to  love 
holiness;  to  delight  supremely  in  God;  to  possess  real  benevolence 
toward  all  men — enemies  as  well  as  fi-iends;  and  to  discharge,  as  we 
have  opportunity,  all  the  duties  which  we  owe  to  our  Creator,  to  each 
other,  and  to  ourselves.  These  dispositions  and  exercises  are  the  fruit 
and  evidence  of  anew  nature;  they  proceed  from  a  sanctified  heart;  they 
are  its  natural  produce — flowing  like  sweet  waters  from  a  pure  fountain. 
Thus  qualified,  the  renewed  soul  holds  spiritual  communion  with  God 
at  present,  and  is  fitted  to  find  its  highest  happiness  in  him  to  all  eter- 
nity. But  without  this  qualification,  we  cannot  have  such  communion 
now,  and,  as  we  have  seen,  we  cannot  possibly  be  prepared  for  the  en- 
joyment of  God,  and  therefore  cannot  be  admitted  to  it,  at  the  hour  of 
death. 

You  perceive,  then,  that  those  who  are  unacquainted  with  this  great 
spiritual  change — who  have  not  been  reconciled  to  God  through  Jesus 
Christ,  who  have  not  truly  repented  of  sin,  cannot,  with  any  propriety, 
be  said  to  be  waiting  for  their  change.  The  essential  preparation  for 
it,  they  have  as  yet,  wholly  neglected.  They  have  forgotten  or  disre- 
garded the  main  concern,  the  great  errand,  on  which  they  were  sent  into 
the  world.  Whether  they  be  in  the  morning,  the  meridian,  or  the  de- 
cline of  life,  the  great  business  of  life  is  yei  untouched  by  them;  it  is 
still  all  upon  their  hands;  and  it  urges  them  to  put  forth  all  the  powers 
of  their  souls — calling  on  Cicd  for  help — in  an  immediate  and  etfectual 
attention  to  its  demands.  But  those  who  know  by  happy  experience 
what  it  is  to  have  passed  from  death  to  life,  have  made  what  may  be 
denominated  the  essential  preparation  for  death.  They  are  so  waiting 
for  the  coming  of  their  Lord,  as  that  his  appearance,  whenever  or  how- 
ever it  shall  take  place,  will  be  a  happy  eveni  to  them.  Yet  it  is  im- 
portant, and  will  be  found  highly  comfortable, 

2.  To  possess  and  cherish  the  desire  that  the  appointed  hour  for 
dismission  from  the  world  should  speedily  arrive.  This  seems  clearly 
to  have  been  the  disposition  of  the  penman  of  the  text.  He  plainly  in- 
timates, that  although  he  would  endeavour  to  wait  with  resignation,  as 
long  as  God  should  please  to  continue  him  here,  yet  it  was  his  choice 
and  inclination  to  be  speedily  dismissed.  The  same  sentiment  is  dis- 
tinctly expressed  by  the  apostle  Paul;  "I  have,  said  he,  a  desire  to 
depart  and  to  be  with  Christ,  which  is  far  better."     Through  an  undue 


6  Tlie  Believer  ivaiting  for  kis  Change. 

attachment  to  the  world,  the  weakness  of  their  faith,  the  want  of  pre- 
sent and  satisfactory  evidence  of  their  interest  in  the  covenant  of  grace, 
and  a  clear  view  and  sensible  anticipation  of  the  entertainments  of  the 
heavenly  world,  it  frequently  comes  to  pass,  that  those  who  are  the 
real  heirs  of  glory,  are  unwilling  for  the  present  to  leave  the  world — 
fearful  of  the  hour  of  death,  and  desirous  to  have  it  delayed.  In  oppo- 
sition to  this,  it  should  be  their  aim,  to  acquire  a  firm  and  settled  con- 
fidence of  their  covenant  interest  in  the  Redeemer,  to  have  their  affec- 
tions weaned  from  the  earth,  their  worldly  concerns  so  settled  and  ar- 
ranged, and  their  minds  so  constantly  and  daily  raised  up  to  God,  and 
so  delighted  in  the  contemplation  of  his  glorious  excellence,  as  that 
they  should  long  to  be  swallowed  up  in  the  near  and  perfect  vision  of 
himj  as  that  the  summons  to  depart  would  be  to  them  a  matter  of 
real  gratification.  This  may  be  called  an  actual  and  habitual  readiness 
or  preparedness  for  their  dissolution.  It  is  that  temper  and  state  of 
mind  in  which  every  child  of  God  would  wish  to  be  found,  when  the 
messenger  death  shall  deliver  the  mandate  to  depart.  I  say  not,  indeed, 
that  this  state  of  habitual  desire  "  to  be  absent  from  the  body  and  pre- 
sent with  the  Lord,"  is  one  of  easy  or  general  attainment.  But  I  do  say, 
that  it  is  not  only  desirable  and  possible,  but  that  it  has  been  actually 
attained  by  some,  and  that  it  ought  to  be  pressed  after,  with  serious 
care  and  diligence,  by  every  real  Christian.  We  ought  to  endeavour 
to  have  our  minds  so  habitually  filled  with  holy  desires  after  God  and 
glory,  as  that  we  may  view  the  coming  of  our  Lord  like  the  arrival  of 
a  friend,  for  whom  we  have  been  long  looking,  with  anxious  and  ear- 
nest expectation.  This  it  is,  in  deed  and  in  truth,  to  ivait  for  our  change. 
But, 

3.  While  it  is  delayed,  we  ought  to  exercise  patience,  and  resigna- 
tion to  the  will  of  Him  who  hath  appointed  the  time  of  our  release. 
This  is  to  be  the  guard  and  qualification  of  what  you  have  just  heard. 
We  are  not  to  be  impatient,  or  to  murmur  and  repine,  that  the  hour 
does  not  arrive,  at  which  we  are  to  have  done  with  the  w^orld.  Of  this, 
it  may  be  thought  by  some,  there  is  little  danger;  and  in  reality  it  is 
that  extreme  which  is  less  frequently  seen  than  the  other.  Yet  its  oc- 
currence is  sometimes  witnessed.  It  is  not  a  thing  unknown  in  experi- 
ence, that  a  child  of  God  should  find  it  far  more  difficult  to  be  willing 
to  live  than  willing  to  die.  The  pious  author  of  our  text  himself,  was 
an  example  of  it.  Some  of  his  expressions  appear  to  manifest  an  im- 
patient wish  to  be  released  from  his  sufferings  by  death;  and  the  whole 
spirit  of  our  text,  as  used  by  him,  is  a  resolution  to  guard  against  this 
unjustifiable  emotion.  Elijah  and  Jonah  are  other  instances,  with 
which  the  sacred  records  furnish  us,  of  good  men  who  sinfully  wished 
to  die.  Nor  are  instances  wanting  in  every  age  and  place.  What 
shocking  proofs  are  given  us  of  this,  when  men,  through  rage  or  de- 
spair, put  an  end  to  their  own  lives,  and  rush,  all  covered  with  their 
sins,  to  the  tribunal  of  their  insulted  Creator.  Wicked  men,  who  either 
deliberately  disbelieve  afuture  state,  or  who  have  no  distinct  or  impres- 
sive apprehensions  of  what  awaits  them  there,  are  not  unfrequently 
seen  to  be  impatient  for  death.  But  good  men  may  also  indulge  in  a 
degree  of  this  spirit;  although  preserved,  while  reason  holds  its  throne, 
from  carrying  it  to  the  horrid  lengths  that  have  just  been  mentioned. 
The  cares,  and  burdens,  and  perplexities,  and  fatigue  of  worldly  busi- 
ness, or  of  relative  duties,  may  sometimes  urge  them  to  this  sinful 
impatience.  Long  sickness,  or  much  bodily  infirmity,  or  heavy  afflic- 
tions of  any  kind,  may  tempt  them,  as  they  did  Job,  to  indulge  it. 


The  Believer  waiting  for  his  Change.  7 

The  languor,  lassitude,  and  various  inconveniences  and  sufferings  of 
old  age,  are  sometimes  seen  to  produce  it.  The  believer  hopes  for  un- 
mingled  happiness  beyond  the  grave,  and  is  ready  to  be  dissatisfied 
that  he  is  detained  in  a  state  of  sorrow  and  affliction.  But  he  ought 
to  remember,  that  "his  times  are  in  the  hand  of  God,"  and  that  duty  de- 
mands that  this  concern  be  resigned  entirely  to  the  divine  disposal.  The 
believer  should  recollect  that  it  is  not  acting  the  part  of  a  good  servant, 
to  be  reluctant  to  work  till  evening,  nor  of  a  good  soldier,  to  be  too  de- 
sirous of  being  called  from  his  post.  He  should  remember  that  it  is  in- 
cumbent on  him  to  sifffer  the  will  of  God,  as  well  as  to  do  it;  and  that 
the  former  of  these  is  often  as  important,  both  to  himself  and  to  others, 
as  the  latter.  He  should  remember  that  the  reward  of  fidelity  is  so  great, 
that  he  may  well  wait,  and  do,  and  suffer,  as  long,  and  as  much,  as  God 
may  require,  before  it  be  conferred? — eternity  will  surely  be  long  enough 
to  be  happy.  While,  therefore,  he  may  and  ought,  with  the  apostle, 
as  already  stated,  to  indulge  a  desire  to  depart  and  to  be  with  Christ, 
he  should  also  be  willing,  as  the  apostle  was,  to  stay  as  long  as  he 
may  be  profitable  to  the  church  or  to  the  world;  or  may,  in  any  wise 
promote  the  divine  glory:  and  longer  than  this,  he  may  be  well  as- 
sured, God  will  not  suffer  any  of  his  children  to  remain  in  exile  from 
their  heavenly  home.  Cordially,  therefore,  let  them  adopt  the  lan- 
guage of  the  text— "All  the  days  of  my  appointed  time  will  I  wait  till 
my  change  come" — I  am  now  to  remark  briefly — 

IV.  In  the  last  place,  that  this  change  will  be,  in  the  highest  degree, 
important  and  decisive  to  all.  It  is  spoken  of  with  emphasis  in  the 
text — it  is  denominated  'hny  change,''  as  if  there  were  no  other  that 
could  be  mentioned  or  thought  of,  while  this  was  in  contemplation;— 
or  as  if  no  other  deserved  notice  in  comparison  with  this.  And  such, 
in  reality,  is  the  fact.  Death  will  change  all  the  circumstances  of  our 
present  existence.  The  body  will  change  its  appearance  and  its  capa- 
cities. It  will  change  from  an  animated  and  attractive  form,  into  a 
lifeless  and  unsightly  lump  of  clay.  The  soul  will  change  worlds.  It 
will  change  time  for  eternity,  a  state  of  probation  for  a  state  of  eter- 
nal fixedness  of  character  and  perceptions;  a  state  where  happiness 
and  misery  are  blended  together,  for  one  where  there  will  be  either 
happiness  or  misery  without  any  mixture,  and  with  an  intensity  of 
which  we  can  now  have  no  adequate  conception;  a  state  where  things 
are  seen  through  the  dim  medium  of  the  senses,  for  one  where  the 
unimprisoned  spirit  will  discern  God  and  eternal  realities,  with  naked 
and  unobstructed  vision. 

Widely  different,  as  already  hinted,  will  be  the  nature  of  that  tran- 
sition, which  the  righteous  and  the  wicked  will  make,  when  their  last 
final  change  shall  come.  The  wicked  will  then  change  their  indiffer- 
ence to  religion,  into  an  unavailing  and  endless  agony  of  soul,  that 
they  wasted  the  period  of  probation,  without  making  preparation  for 
this  momentous  event.  The  infidel  will  change  his  unbelief  of  revela- 
tion, and  his  sneers  at  its  truth,  into  an  awful  conviction  of  its  verity, 
and  into  curses  on  his  impiety  and  folly,  for  neglecting  the  counsel  of 
God  for  his  eternal  well  being.  The  prosperous  and  pleasurable  sin- 
ner will  change  his  wealth,  his  pomp,  his  fame,  his  flatterers,  and  his 
sensual  indulgences,  for  the  blackness  of  darkness  for  ever,  the  soci- 
ety of  blaspheming  spirits,  tormenting  devils,  and  the  gnawing  of  that 
worm  which  shall  never  die.  The  giddy,  the  thoughtless,  and  the 
vain,  will  change  all  those  sportive  scenes,  which  once  allured  them, 
and  kept  their  souls  from  God,  for  weeping  and  wailing,  and  gnashing 


8  The  Believer  ivaiting  for  his  Change, 

of  teeth,  without  hope  and  without  end — awful  change  I — beyond  con- 
ception awful — to  all  who  shall  then  be  found  to  have  lived  without 
God  and  withoiit  Christ  in  the  world.  "  O  that  they  were  wise,  that 
they  understood  this,  that  they  would  consider  their  latter  end." 

But  unspeakably  joyous  and  glorious  will  be  this  change,  to  all  the 
people  of  God.  Faith  will  then  be  changed  into  vision,  and  they 
will  behold  their  Saviour,  face,  to  face.  They  ^^  ill  change  all  the 
sufferings  of  time  for  all  the  ecstacy  of  eternity.  They  will  change 
a  state  of  infirmity  for  one  where  no  inhabitant  shall  ever  say  I  am 
sick;  but  where  all  shall  possess  eternal  health,  activity,  and  vi- 
gour. They  shall  change  the  scoff's  and  reproaches  of  wicked  men  for 
the  approbation  and  applause  of  God  and  angels.  They  shall  change 
a  state  of  labour  for  a  state  of  rest  and  reward.  They  shall  change 
all  their  doubts  and  fears,  their  languor,  coldness  and  sluggishness,  in 
the  divine  life,  for  a  perfect  and  enduring  assurance  of  God's  love,  and 
the  most  delightful  freedom  in  his  service.  They  shall  change,  in  a 
word,  a  state  of  sin  and  imperfection,  for  a  state  of  immaculate  holiness 
and  resemblance  to  the  blessed  God — where  no  enemy  or  temptation 
shall  ever  again  assail  them;  where  the  body  of  this  death  shall  no  more 
oppress  them;  where  they  shall  have  no  more  contentions  and  conflicts 
with  any  of  their  corruptions;  but  where  the  soul  shall  be  completely 
purified,  and  shall  drink  without  interruption,  and  with  ever  increas- 
ing delight,  of  the  rivers  of  pleasure  which  flow  at  God's  right  hand. 
Thrice  blessed  and  desirable  change!  Come  the  happy  hour  that  shall 
bring  it  near! — "  Come  quickly;  even  so,  come  Lord  Jesus." 

In  closing  the  subject,  fidelity  to  my  Master,  and  to  their  ov^'n  souls  de- 
mands, that  I  solemnly  call  on  those  whose  consciences  inform  them  that 
they  are  yet  in  their  sins,  to  accept  the  offered  grace  of  God  lo-day. 
To-day  you  enter  on  a  new  year;  and  after  all  the  days  and  years  you. 
have  passed,  the  whole  business  of  life,  as  you  have  heard,  is  still  before 
you — it  is  still  all  on  your  hands.  Is  it  not  time  to  set  about  it  in  ear- 
nest.^ May  not  "  the  time  past  of  your  life  suffice  you  to  have  wrought 
the  will  of  the  flesh?"  When  do  you  propose  to  be  wise  for  eter- 
nity?— O  beware,  I  conjure  you,  that  you  be  not  surprised  into  reme- 
diless misery!  Resolve,  in  the  strength  of  an  Almighty  Saviour,  that 
this  year,  this  day,  yea,  from  this  good  hour,  you  will  be  for  God — that 
the  care  of  the  soul  shall  be  to  you  the  "one  thing  needful,"  till  its  sal- 
vation is  ensured,  by  a  vital  union  with  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  If  my 
earnest  wishes,  and  prayers,  and  entreaties,  under  the  blessing  of 
God,  shall  induce  you  thus  to  resolve  and  act,  you  will  look  back 
to  this  year,  this  day,  this  hour,  as  one  ineffably  happy — the  one 
when  happiness  inconceivable  and  endless  began,  and  was  made  as- 
suredly yours. 

Let  those  who  are  yet  in  painful  doubt  on  the  subject  of  their  spi- 
ritual state,  be  reminded  by  this  day  and  this  discourse,  that  their  time 
for  ascertaining  their  true  standing  as  candidates  for  the  weal  or  woe  of 
eternity,  is  fast  stealing  away,  and  that  they  know  not  how  soon,Avhether 
doubting  or  resolved,  their  decisive  change  will  come.  "  How  long 
halt  ye  between  two  opinions?"  Be  exhorted  to  aim  at  a  higher  stand- 
ard of  piety  than  you  have  yet  proposed  to  yourselves;  and  if  you 
reach  it,  your  doubts  and  fears  will  be  likely  to  vanish  with  the  attain- 
ment. Instead  of  poring  over  your  past  experience,  go  right  to  the 
foot  of  the  cross,  and  as  perishing  sinners  embrace  a  crucified  Saviour, 
who  is  as  freely  offered  to  you  now,  as  he  ever  was.  If  your  faith,  in- 
vigorated by  the  Spirit  of  all  grace,  shall  give  you  sensible  freedom  to 


Christ  the  Believer^s  Peace.  9 

trust  yourselves  simply  and  solely  on  the  righteousness  of  Christ,  and 
shall  shed  abroad  his  love  in  your  hearts,  quickening  you  in  all  duty, 
and  giving  you  a  hatred  of  all  sin,  you  ought  to  be  comforted  and  esta- 
blished— ^If  you  are  not,  your  fears  and  doubts  will  then  be  infirmities, 
which  if  they  follow  you  to  your  great  change,  will,  after  it  is  past, 
leave  you  entirely  and  for  ever. 

Christians  who  possess  "  a  good  hope  through  grace,"  "  the  full  as- 
surance of  hope,"  "  a  hope  full  of  immortality" — this  surely  must  be 
a  joyful  day  to  you.  The  recurrence  of  every  such  day,  is  a  way-mark 
to  travellers  on  the  journey  of  human  life;  and  this  day  you  see  ano- 
ther of  these  significant  monitors,  that  your  pilgrimage  is  rapidly  ap- 
proaching its  happy  termination;  that  you  are  one  marked  portion  of 
time  nearer,  than  on  the  last  occurrence  of  a  new  year,  to  the  great 
change  which  will  carry  you  from  earth  to  heaven.  "  Rejoice  always, 
and  again  I  say  rejoice;"  but  be  not  impatient.  Say,  with  the  holy 
man  who  spoke  our  text, — ^"  all  the  days  of  my  appointed  time  will  I 
wait,  till  my  change  come."  And  while  you  wait,  be  active  and  ex- 
emplary in  every  duty.  "  Let  your  light  so  shine  before  men,  that 
they  may  see  your  good  works,  and  glorify  your  Father  which  is  in 
heaven."  Keep  in  mind  that  all  the  trials  of  this  mortal  state,  only 
"  work  out  for  you  a  far  more  exceeding  and  eternal  weight  of  glory; 
while  you  look  not  at  the  things  which  are  seen,  but  at  the  things 
which  are  not  seen."  Yes,  dear  brethren,  often  look  across  this  vale 
of  tears,  and  the  valley  of  the  shadow  of  death,  to  the  region  of  light 
and  life  eternal  that  lies  beyond.  There  every  sorrow  will  be  turned 
into  joy,  in  the  immediate  presence  and  vision  of  that  precious  Re- 
deemer to  whom  you  now  look  by  the  eye  of  faith — There 

"  His  own  soft  hand  shall  wipe  the  tears, 

From  every  weeping  eye  ; 
And  pains,  and  groans,  and  griefs  and  fears, 

And  death  itself  shall  die. 

"  How  long,  dear  Saviour,  O  how  long  ! 

Shall  this  bright  hour  delay; 
Fly  swifter  round,  ye  wheels  of  time, 

And  bring  the  welcome  day." 


CHRIST  THE  BELIEVER'S  PEACE. 
Ephesians  ii.  14,  first  part. — "  For  he  is  our  peace." 

These  words,  my  brethren,  point  us  to  the  Redeemer  of  the  world. 
He  who  is  called  Jesus,  because  he  saves  his  people  from  their  sins; 
he  who  is  called  Christ,  because  he  was  anointed  of  the  Father  for  this 
great  purpose;  he  through  whom  all  the  manifestations  of  the  divine 
mercy  that  were  ever  made  to  the  children  of  men  have  been  conveyed; 
he,  of  whom,  the  apostle  affirms  in  the  words  which  immediately  follow 
the  text,  that  he  hath  "  broken  down  the  middle  wall  of  partition  be- 
tween the  Gentile  and  the  Jew,  and  hath  made  both  one;"  he  of  whom 
it  is  declared,  in  the  verse  which  precedes  the  text, that  "nowin Christ 
Jesus,  ye  who  sometimes  were  far  off  are  made  nigh  by  the  blood  of 
Christ" — He  is  our  peace;  he  alone  is  our  peace;  he  is  an  unfailing 
peace-maker. 
B 


10  Christ  the  Believer^s  Peace. 

In  discoursing  on  the  words,  I  will  endeavour,  in  reliance  on  divine 
aid,  to  illustrate  them  in  the  three  following  views: — 

I.  As  referring  to  the  method  in  which  God  was  rendered  reconcile- 
able  to  fallen  man. 

II.  As  descriptive  of  the  manner  in  which  a  convinced  sinner  first 
obtains  solid  peace  of  conscience. 

III.  As  pointing  out  the  source  from  which  the  real  Christian  de- 
rives all  his  consolations  and  comforts. 

After  this,  a  short  improvement  shall  conclude  the  discourse. 

First,  then,  let  us  consider  the  words  as  referring  to  the  method  in 
which  God  was  rendered  reconcileable  to  fallen  man. 

Before  the  birth  of  time,  my  brethren,  even  in  the  ages  of  eternity, 
when  "  the  counsel  of  peace  was  between  them  both,"  the  Son  of  God, 
our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  in  the  foresight  of  the  fall  of  man  and  the  ruin 
of  our  race,  engaged  to  the  eternal  Father,  in  the  covenant  of  redemp- 
tion, to  satisfy  divine  justice  in  behalf  of  his  elect  people,  who  were 
given  to  him  in  that  high  and  mysterious  transaction.  Hence,  when 
man  had  actually  fallen,  he  was  not,  like  the  rebel  angels,  consigned  to 
immediate  and  hopeless  perdition,  but  received  the  early  promise  that 
"  the  seed  of  the  woman  should  bruise  the  serpent's  head."  Hence  too, 
the  obedience  and  death  of  Christ  became,  by  anticipation,  the  ground 
of  all  the  favours  conferred  on  a  guilty  world  before  his  actual  appear- 
ance in  the  flesh.  Through  the  eflicacy  of  his  work,  to  be  performed 
in  "  the  fulness  of  time,"  the  saints  under  the  ancient  dispensation  ob- 
tained both  grace  and  glory;  for  he  was  the  "  lamb  without  blemish 
and  without  spot — slain  from  the  foundation  of  the  world:"  and  since 
his  incarnation  and  death,  his  merits  and  intercession  have  still  re- 
mained the  rich  and  abounding  fountain,  from  which  have  flowed  forth 
all  the  blessings,  both  of  a  temporal  and  a  spiritual  kind,  whicli  the  race 
of  man  has  experienced. 

Dwell  on  the  thought  for  a  moment,  my  brethren,  that  if  you  exclude 
from  the  system  of  the  divine  administration  as  it  respects  this  v/orld, 
the  benefits  of  the  Redeemer's  undertaking,  you  exclude  every  thing 
but  sin  and  sorrow.  You  open  hostilities  between  heaven  and  earth, 
and  guilty,  feeble  man,  becomes  a  creature,  in  whose  present  situation 
and  future  prospects  you  can  discern  nothing  but  guilt  and  sufferings. 
This  was  once  actually  his  condition.  Into  this  condition  he  was 
brought  by  the  violation  of  the  covenant  under  which  he  was  originally 
placed — It  was  the  condition  of  Adam,  after  his  fall,  and  before  the 
promise  of  a  Saviour.  The  law  of  Jehovah  had  been  transgressed,  and 
his  justice  was  pledged  to  punish  the  offence.  Man  had  become  a  rebel 
against  his  Maker,  and  the  glory  of  God  was  concerned  to  see  that  the 
rebellion  should  not  escape  its  deserved  punishment.  The  inviolable 
declaration  had  gone  forth — "In  the  day  thou  eatest  thereof,  thou  shalt 
surely  die."  Death  temporal,  spiritual,  and  eternal,  was  the  awful  pe- 
nalty and  doom  of  the  first  transgressor,  and  of  all  his  descendants. 
"  By  one  man  sin  entered  into  the  world,  and  death  by  sin,  and  so  death 
passed  upon  all  men,  for  that  all  have  sinned." 

This  view  of  the  condition  of  man,  as  condemned  and  lost,  serves  to 
show,  most  clearly  and  impressively,  the  nature  and  necessity  of  the 
Redeemer's  undertaking.  Having  humbled  himself  to  assume  our  na- 
ture, he  performed  wl.at  in  the  covenant  of  redemption  he  assumed  to 
do,  as  the  surety  of  his  people.  In  this  character  "he  fully  discharged 
their  debt"* — He  completely  satisfied  the  divine  law  and  justice  in 

*  Confession  of  Faith,  Chap.  xi.  Sec.  3. 


Christ  the  Believer^ s  Peace.  1 1 

their  behalf.     Having  restored  the  violated  honours  of  the  law,  by  a 
perfect  and  sinless  obedience,  he  paid  its  penalty  by  his  sufferings  and 
death.     "  Surely,"  says  the  evangelical  prophet,  "he  hath  borne  our 
griefs  and  carried  our  sorrows,  yet  we  did  esteem  him  stricken,  smitten 
of  God,  and  afflicted.     But  he  was  wounded  for  our  transgressions,  he 
was  bruised  for  our  iniquities,  the  chastisement  of  our  peace  was  upon 
him;  and  with  his  stripes  we  are  healed.     All  we  like  sheep  have  gone 
astrav,  we  have  turned  every  one  to  his  own  way,  and  the  Lord  hath 
laid  on  him  the  iniquity  of  us  all"— Of  the  same  tenor  is  the  language 
of  the  apostles — "  He  bare  our  sins  in  his  own  body  on  the  tree— Christ 
hath  redeemed  us  from  the  curse  of  the  law,  being  made  a  curse  for  us; 
for  it  is  written,  cursed  is  every  one  that  hangeth  on  a  tree — He  hath 
made  him  to  be  sin  for  us  who  knew  no  sin,  that  we  might  be  made  the 
righteousness  of  God  in  him."     It  is  on  this  very  ground  that  the  great 
apostle  of  the  Gentiles  says,  "we  pray  you  in  Christ's  stead  be  ye  re- 
conciled to  God."     It  is  on  this  ground  that  the  extension  of  favours 
to  our  guilty  race  has  became  consistent  with  the  rights  and  claims  of 
Jehovah,  and  that  a  treaty  of  peace  is  opened  between  God  and  man. 
In  a  word,  here  is  the  plan  on  which  "God  is  in  Christ  reconciling  the 
world  unto  himself,  not  imputing  their  trespasses  unto  them." 

Christ,  then,  is  our  peace,  inasmuch  as  he  hath  rendered  offended 
Deity  propitious.  "  Him  hath  God  set  forth  to  be  a  propitiation 
through  faith  in  his  blood,  to  declare  his  righteousness  for  the  remis- 
sion of  sins  that  are  past,  through  the  forbearance  of  God— To  declare 
I  say  at  this  time  his  righteousness;  that  he  might  be  just  and  the  jus- 
tifier  of  him  which  believeth  in  Jesus."  Hence,  at  the  nativity  of  the 
Saviour,  the  angels  proclaimed  "peace  on  earth  and  good  will  to  men." 
The  dispensation  which  he  established  was  a  dispensation  of  peace. 
The  commission  which  he  gave  to  his  apostles  and  ministers  was,  to 
"  preach  the  gospel" — the  good  news  of  salvation — "  to  every  crea- 
ture." It  is  in  virtue  of  what  he  hath  done,  and  in  virtue  of  that  only, 
that  salvation  has  become  possible,  and  reconciliation  with  God  attain- 
able; that  we  are  able,  with  truth,  to  proclaim  to  guilty  men,  that  they 
may  return  to  their  offended  Creator,  with  the  hope  of  acceptance; 
and  that  all  the  ordinances  of  revealed  truth  are  dispensed  for  this  pur- 

Be  especially  reminded,  that  it  is  wholly  in  virtue  of  what  Christ 
hath  done,  that  you,  the  people  of  my  charge,  have  so  long  and  so 
richly  enjoyed  the  means  of  grace;  that  you  have  been  waited  upon, 
from  week  to  Aveek,  and  from  year  to  year,  with  the  messages  of  peace; 
that  you  have  been  and  constantly  are  entreated,  urged,  and  persuaded, 
to  be  at  peace  with  your  God;  and  that  all  the  most  cogent  motives 
and  affecting  considerations  are  pressed  upon  you,  to  induce  you  to 
choose  so  safe  and  so  wise  a  part.     Let  us  now — 

II.  Consider  the  text  as  descriptive  of  the  manner  in  which  a  con- 
vinced sinner  first  obtains  solid  peace  of  conscience.  In  the  process  of 
this  work,  the  mind  is  enlightened  by  the  spirit  of  grace,  to  see  the  re- 
ality and  importance  of  the  truths  that  have  just  been  stated.  The  sin- 
ner is  made  to  feel,  with  a  power  that  nothing  can  resist  or  evade,  that 
"  God  is  a  consuming  fire  to  the  wicked."  The  eyes  of  his  under- 
standing are  opened,— it  may  be  gradually  or  suddenly,— to  behold  the 
abounding  of  iniquity  in  his  life  and  in  his  heart,  and  every  excuse  and 
palliation  is  seen  to  be  of  no  avail.  Conscience  brings  home  the  charge, 
in  the  language  of  Nathan  to  David,  "  thou  art  the  man"— Thou  art 
the  sinner  who  hast  offended  thy  God;  thou  art  the  very  one  against 


12  Christ  the  Believer^ s  Peace, 

whom  the  divine  law  and  justice  point  their  accusations;  thou  art  the 
guilty  defaulter  who  owest  ten  thousand  talents;  who  art  chargeable 
with  sins  that  are  of  a  crimson  colour  and  a  scarlet  dye;  who  art,  at 
this  moment,  deserving  and  liable  to  be  banished  forever  from  all  good; 
and  yet  thou  art  the  very  soul  who  canst  make  no  reparation  for  thy 
offences — Ah!  when  this  conviction  of  guilt  thus  takes  hold  on  the  con- 
science, in  what  an  interesting  light  does  it  then  appear,  that  Christ 
Jesus  is  our  peace.  The  convinced  sinner  sees — I  should  rather  say 
he  feels — feels  with  the  keenest  sensibility,  that  but  for  Christ  peace 
Avould  be  impossible. 

And  when  this  convicted  sinner  is  enabled  to  embrace  the  gospel 
offer,  and  by  faith  to  lay  hold  on  Christ,  in  an  appropriating  act,  as  his 
own  Saviour;  when  he  feels  a  holy  freedom,  delight,  and  desire,  draw- 
ing him  away,  to  make  a  full  and  unreserved  surrender  of  himself — of 
his  all  of  hope  and  happiness,  into  his  Redeemer's  hands;  when  the 
suitableness  and  excellence  of  the  plan  of  redemption  beams  on  the 
soul,  with  such  a  lustre  of  evidence  and  beauty  as  to  constrain  it  lo  cry 
out — "this  is  all  my  salvation  and  all  my  desire" — then  is  every  sorrow 
turned  into  joy;  and  with  a  sv/eet  outgoing  of  spirit,  not  to  be  de- 
scribed, he  will  say,  "  Christ  is  my  peace:  here  is  that  peace  for  which 
I  have  so  ardently  panted;  here,  at  length,  I  have  found  it.  I  have 
been  viewing  myself  as  the  enemy  of  God,  and  God  as  my  enemy.  It 
seemed  as  if  his  very  honour  was  engaged  to  punish  such  an  unholy 
wretch  as  I  have  been.  But — it  must  be  by  the  enlightening  influence 
of  his  own  blessed  Spirit — he  now  gives  me  to  see,  not  only  that  a  re- 
conciliation is  possible,  but  that  its  taking  place  will  even  advance  his 
declarative  glory,  by  showing  how  "mercy  and  truth  are  met  together, 
righteousness  and  peace  have  kissed  each  other,"  in  the  salvation  of 
the  chief  of  sinners  by  Jesus  Christ.  I  feel  a  supreme  delight  in  con- 
templating this  very  method  of  salvation.  I  am  sure  it  is  that  which  I 
would  choose,  if  I  had  ten  thousand  choices.  And  it  is  freely  proposed 
— yea  I  am  commanded  to  accept  and  trust  it.  I  do  accept  it  cordially 
— I  am  conscious  that  I  do.  It  is  therefore — O  the  overwhelming 
thought  of  joy! — it  is,  it  must  be  mine.  Yes,  and  here  I  will  hold,  in 
defiance  of  all  the  enemies  of  my  peace.  Let  the  tempter  no  more  per- 
suade me  to  despair  or  to  despond.  I  know  my  sins  are  great  and  nu- 
merous; I  know  they  have  gone  to  heaven  and  cry  for  vengeance.  I 
know,  too,  that  I  have  no  strength — that  in  myself  I  am  very  weakness. 
But  I  see  every  thing  that  I  need  in  Christ  my  Saviour.  I  see  a  value 
in  his  blood  that  answei-s  to  every  demand  of  God's  holy  law  against 
mie.  If  my  sins  have  gone  to  heaven,  he  too  has  gone  to  heaven,  to 
plead  his  merits  before  the  throne  to  which  my  sins  have  risen.  If 
they  cry  for  condemnation,  he  shows  his  merits;  he  answers  the  de- 
mands of  law  and  justice,  and  thus  grants  peace  and  pardon.  He  ever 
liveth  to  make  intercession  for  me,  and  he  can  save  even  to  the  utter- 
most, all  that  come  unto  God  by  him.  He  can,  and  he  will,  supply  all 
my  need  from  the  riches  of  his  grace  and  fulness.  Begone,  then,  ye  in- 
sidious tempters  to  unbelief;  ye  treacherous  enemies  of  my  peace  be- 
gone: for  to  all  your  insinuations  I  will  still  oppose  this  one  incontro- 
vertible answer — the  fulness  of  Christ.  On  this  I  feel  a  freedom  to  rely 
— "  this  is  the  rock  of  my  peace,  and  the  gates  of  hell  shall  not  prevail 
against  it." 
'  But—- 
III.  The  words  before  us  point  out  the  source  from  which  the  real 
Christian  must,  and  will,  continue  to  derive  all  his  consolations  and 


Christ  the  Believer^s  Peace,  13 

comforts — For  we  are  to  remember  that  Christ  is  not  only  the  author 
and  cause  of  the  freedom  which  is  first  obtained  from  the  condemning- 
sentence  of  the  law,  and  the  accusations  of  a  guilty  conscience,  and  of 
the  first  peace  and  joy  which  follow  on  believing;  but  he  is  also, 
throughout  the  whole  of  the  Christian  course,  the  bestower  of  all  the 
spiritual  blessings  which  the  believer  is  made  to  possess.  Let  me  il- 
lustrate this  part  of  the  subject,  by  leading  you  to  view  the  offices  sus- 
tained by  our  glorious  Redeemer. 

My  brethren,  it  is  not  a  tenet  derived  originally  from  the  love  of  sys- 
tem, or  the  affectation  of  nice  distinctions;  it  is  not  merely  the  creed 
of  children,  or  the  sound  of  words,  when  we  speak  to  you  of  the  offices 
of  Christ.  The  doctrine  is  derived  from  the  scripture  itself,  and  who- 
ever knows  the  power  of  godliness,  will  know,  practically  and  substan- 
tially, if  not  formally,  its  important  meaning. 

Christ  is  a  king.  God  hath  "  set  his  king  on  his  holy  hill  of  Zion;'* 
and  hath  "  committed  all  things  into  his  hands;"  and  hath  "  given  him 
to  be  head  over  all  things  to  the  church."  "He  must  reign  till  he  hath 
put  all  enemies  under  his  feet."  In  the  execution  of  this  kingly  office 
of  the  Redeemer,  the  peace  of  the  believer  is  rendered  secure,  against 
the  numerous  and  powerful  enemies,  who  would  otherwise  wrest  it 
from  him  in  a  moment.  The  great  adversary  of  our  souls  is  ever  busy 
in  bringing  forward  temptations  to  the  mind,  under  various  forms. 
Often  does  the  Christian  find  himself  assaulted  with  these, — often  in  a 
manner  which  he  little  expected,  and  always  would  they  prevail  against 
his  peace,  were  it  not  for  the  aid  and  protection  he  receives  from  his 
almighty  Saviour.  But  he  who  so  often  manifested  his  power  over 
the  prince  of  darkness  while  here  on  earth,  has  not  less  ability  to  con- 
trol and  defeat  his  designs,  now  that  he  has  ascended  on  high.  He 
will  not  suffer  his  people  "  to  be  tempted  above  that  they  are  able;  but 
will,  with  the  temptation,  also  make  a  way  to  escape,  that  they  may  be 
able  to  bear  it."  To  open  to  their  view  the  remaining  depravity  and 
deceitfulness  of  their  hearts,  and  thus  to  increase  their  humility  and 
their  sense  of  dependence  on  their  Lord,  he  may  permit  the  tempter, 
as  in  the  case  of  Peter,  to  prevail  to  a  certain  length.  But  out  of  every 
temptation  the  King  of  Zion  will,  at  length  and  without  fail,  deliver  his 
subjects :  and  their  peace,  like  a  mass  of  iron,  which  settles  deeper  in 
the  earth  for  being  shaken,  shall  become  the  more  firm  and  stable,  from 
all  the  shocks  which  it  receives. 

The  world  is,  also,  a  dangerous  enemy  of  the  Christian's  peace.  By 
stealing  insidiously  into  his  heart,  and  mingling  its  love  unduly  with 
the  current  of  his  better  affections — by  terrifying  with  its  frowns,  op- 
pressing with  its  cares,  and  seducing*  with  its  blandishments,  it  often 
destroys  the  holy  tranquillity  of  the  soul.  But  the  great  Captain  of 
salvation  will  not  sufter  it  finally  to  prevail.  By  the  winning  influences 
of  his  grace,  or  by  the  rod  of  correction  seasonably  applied,  he  will 
wean  every  sincere  follower's  heart  from  this  unhallowed  attachment, 
and  make  him  say,  with  his  servant  of  old — "  Return  unto  thy  rest,  O 
my  soul,  for  the  Lord  hath  dealt  bountifully  with  thee." 

The  flesh,  with  its  affections  and  lusts,  is  likewise  a  most  dangerous 
and  successful  enemy  to  the  peace  of  the  believer.  Unsanctified  de- 
sires, propensities,  emotions,  and  passions,  frequently  plead  for  indul- 
gence, and  too  often  break  forth  into  open  sin.  Coldness,  indifference, 
and  indisposition  to  duty,  often  oppress  the  spirit,  and  make  it  drag 
heavily  along  its  Christian  course.  The  mind,  thus  affected,  may  be, 
for  a  season,  at  war  with  itself.     But,  Christians,  Christ  is  your  peace. 


14  Christ  the  Believer^s  Peace. 

From  his  kingly  office,  you  are  to  seek  for  a  victory  over  your  corrup- 
tions, and  the  removal  of  your  spiritual  sloth.  He  can  subdue  all  these 
enemies,  and  set  you  at  liberty  from  your  bondage  to  them,  and  quicken 
you  effectually  in  the  divine  life.  Apply  earnestly  to  him,  and  in  his 
own  good  time,  he  will  give  you  that  enlargement  which  is  best;  and 
in  the  meantime,  he  will  never  suffer  you  wholly  to  fall  before  them. 
Be  mindful  that  in  him,  and  not  in  yourselves,  lies  your  strength  and 
your  safety,  and  to  him  seek  incessantly,  that  you  may  "be  strong  in 
the  grace  which  is  in  Christ  Jesus." 

Christ  is  also  a  prophet — He  was  "  that  prophet  that  should  come 
into  the  world."  He  revealed  the  method  of  salvation  more  clearly 
and  fully  than  it  had  been  known  before.  By  his  Spirit,  applying  the 
truth  of  his  word,  he  still  reveals  himself  in  the  hearts  of  his  people, 
and  manifests  himself  unto  them  "  as  he  does  not  manifest  himself  unto 
the  world."  Here  is  the  Christian\s  refuge  from  that  ignorance,  blind- 
ness, and  darkness,  which  sometimes  so  fatally  destroy  his  peace. 
Losing  those  clear  views  and  that  affecting  sense  of  spiritual  and  eter- 
nal realities  which  once  he  possessed,  the  believer  is  often  disquieted 
and  perplexed,  and  is  sometimes  ready  to  condemn  himself  as  wholly 
graceless.  But  in  the  prophetic  office  of  his  Saviour,  he  is  made  to  find 
peace.  By  the  enlightening  influence  of  his  Spirit,  the  darkness  is 
chased  away,  and  the  clouds  which  overshadowed  his  mind  are  dis- 
pelled: or  if,  in  any  degree,  they  remain,  the  gloom  is  abated;  there 
are  intervals  of  light.  The  Sun  of  righteousness  sheds  down  his  beams 
in  such  measure,  as  to  enable  him  "  that  walked  in  darkness  and  had  no 
light,"  to  perceive  that  he  is  travelling  the  path  which  will  terminate 
in  the  regions  of  eternal  day. 

Under  the  teachings  of  Christ  in  his  prophetic  office,  his  people  like- 
wise obtain  spiritual  views  of  revealed  truth,  which  unsanctified  men 
never  possess.  Real  Christians,  also,  by  divine  illumination,  often 
perceive,  in  various  parts  of  the  sacred  word,  a  beauty,  an  excellence, 
and  a  suitableness  of  the  truth  to  their  own  condition  and  wants,  which 
greatly  promote  their  edification  and  animate  their  hopes.  In  short, 
the  Spirit  of  grace  and  truth,  as  the  Spirit  of  Christ  in  his  prophetic 
office,  teaches  them  rightly  to  apply  and  trust  the  promises,  to  under- 
stand their  own  character  and  state,  and  to  discern  the  wise  design  and 
benevolent  intention  of  providential  dispensations — even  of  those  which 
once  seemed  mysterious  and  trying  to  their  faiih — in  such  a  manner  as 
to  restore  their  peace  when  impaired,  to  establish  it  when  possessed, 
and  to  put  a  song  of  praise  into  iheir  mouth,  to  a  faithful  and  covenant- 
keeping  (iod. 

Christ,  in  fine,  is  a  priest — "  He  is  a  priest  forever  after  the  order  of 
Mclchisedec — he  hath  an  unchangeable  priesthood:  wherefore  he  is 
able,  also,  to  save  them  to  the  uttermost  that  come  unto  God  l)y  him, 
seeing  he  ever  liveth  to  make  intercession  for  them.  For  such  a  high 
priest  became  us  who  is  holy,  harmless,  undefiled,  separate  from  sin- 
ners, and  made  higher  than  the  heavens;  who  needeth  not  daily,  as 
those  high  priests,  to  offer  up  sacrifice,  first  for  his  own  sins,  and  then 
for  the  people,  for  this  he  did  once,  when  he  offered  up  himself." 

Every  practical  Christian  has  learned  from  his  own  experience,  how 
essential  to  the  pi-eservation  of  his  peace,  is  this  priestly  office  of  the 
Redeemer.  Deeply  is  he  sensible  of  many  and  aggravated  offences 
against  his  heavenly  Father;  numerous,  if  not  reproachful  backslidings, 
he  has  to  bewail;  innumeral)le  instances  of  ingratitude  he  sees  in  his 
life;  inexcusable  and  repeated  omissions  of  duly,  present  themselves  to 


Christ  the  Believei^^s  Peace.  15 

his  view,  and  great  imperfection  he  discovers  in  his  very  best  per- 
formances. Comparing-,  therefore,  his  life  with  the  strict  demands  of 
the  law,  or  the  purity  and  holiness  of  the  nature  of  God,  his  own  heart 
condemns  him,  and  he  knows  that  "  God  is  greater  than  his  heart  and 
knoweth  all  things."  In  those  eyes  which  cannot  behold  any  sin  but 
with  abhorrence,  he  who  is  sanctified  but  in  part,  must  necessarily  ap- 
pear unspeakably  more  polluted  than  in  his  own.  But  still  Christ  is 
his  peace.  When,  with  a  penitent,  broken,  bleeding  heart  for  his  sins, 
he  can  get  near  to  the  throne  of  grace,  and  plead  in  faith  the  value  of 
the  peace-speaking  blood  of  his  Redeemer,  he  feels  that  all  the  threat- 
enings  of  the  law  are  disarmed  of  their  terrors.  He  views  Christ,  in  his 
priestly  office,  as  having  made  a  full  satisfaction  for  sin  and  transgres- 
sion^ and  when  he  is  enabled  by  the  arm  of  faith  to  take,  as  it  were,  a 
firm  hold  of  this  satisfaction,  and  bring  it  before  the  throne  of  grace, 
and  there  plead  its  glorious  all-sufficiency,  he  feels  that  it  must  prevail. 
It  must  prevail  against  the  cry  of  all  his  guilt,  for  it  is  of  boundless 
worth,  and  God  hath  declared  that  whosoever  cometh  unto  him  in  this 
way  he  will  in  no  wise  cast  out.  O  my  brethren !  when,  in  the  exercise 
of  precious  faith,  you  find  a  blessed  enlargement  of  heart  to  plead  the 
righteousness  of  Christ — to  plead  it  with  a  sense  of  its  perfection  and 
its  infinite  value — does  it  not  give  you  "  a  peace  which  passeth  all  un- 
derstanding?" Does  it  not  make  you  to  rejoice  in  good  hope  of  the 
glory  of  God?  Does  it  not  make  you  feel  that  you  have  an  argument 
that  is  irresistible.^  Does  it  not,  in  a  word,  and  that  the  v/ord  of  God, 
persuade  you  satisfactorily,  that  "  being  justified  by  faith,  you  have 
peace  with  God  through  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ." 

Did  time  permit,  I  might  enlarge  on  what  I  shall  only  state  in  the 
most  summary  manner — That  he  who  is  at  peace  with  his  God,  and 
in  peace  with  himself,  on  the  terms  of  the  gospel,  will  also  be  at  peace 
with  the  world.  He  will  "seek  peace  and  pursue  it;"  he  will  endeavour 
to  be  a  peace-maker  among  all  with  whom  he  has  intercourse;  and 
for  himself,  "if  it  be  possible,  as  much  as  in  him  lieth,  he  will  live 
peaceable  with  all  men." 

To  improve  the  subject,  let  us  reflect — 

1.  If  Christ  is  our  peace,  if  he  is  so  in  an  exclusive  sense,  then  those 
that  are  not  united  to  him  by  a  vital  faith — those  that  are  out  of  Christ 
— are  out  of  the  path  of  peace.  Yes,  let  me  proclaim  it  with  an  awful 
solemnity,  "  there  is  no  peace,  saith  my  God,  to  the  wicked."  Let  me, 
in  faithfulness  to  the  souls  of  those  whom  I  am  bound  to  watch,  most 
seriously  admonish  every  Christless  sinner  in  this  assembly,  thai  he  is 
travelling  a  peaceless  path.  Dear  inconsiderate  immortals,  believe  it 
for  your  good,  that  while  you  are  not  reconciled  to  God  through  Jesus 
Christ,  there  is  nothing  but  pain  in  your  prospects,  and  disappointment 
in  your  pursuits.  "  Destruction  and  misery  are  in  your  ways,  and  the 
way  of  peace  you  have  not  known."  All  the  dem.ands  of  God's  violated 
law  stand  good  against  you.  Not  one  of  them  is  or  can  be  cancelled, 
till  by  faith  you  are  interested  in  the  divine  Redeemer.  Till  then,  you 
are  under  the  curse,  and  liable,  every  moment,  to  its  full  execution. 
But— 

2.  As  Christ  has  been  made  a  peace  offiiring  for  the  sins  of  men, 
and  the  gospel  is  published  for  the  express  purpose  of  inviting  them  to 
return  unto  God,  will  not  this  prevail  with  every  soul  who  is  here  pre- 
sent, to  endeavour  to  lay  hold  on  Christ  and  on  eternal  life  by  him.?  Is 
heaven  proclaiming  peace,  and  is  the  guilty  world  for  a  war  against  the 
Almighty?    Is  the  Saviour  pursuing  rebels  and  aggressors,  and  almost 


16  Christ  the  Believer^s  Peace. 

compelliiifj  their  acceptance  of  his  rich  offers,  and  will  they  obstinately 
refuse  to  hear,  obey,  and  live?  What  madness  half  so  desperate  as 
this!  Men  and  brethren!  I  beseech  you  by  the  gentleness  of  Christ,  to 
turn  to  him  for  salvation.  On  this  occasion,  especially,  I  would  plead 
with  every  heart  that  is  not  wholly  lost  to  gratitude  and  duty.  Here, 
over  the  emblems  of  the  body  and  blood  of  that  Saviour  whom  your 
sins  contributed  to  slay;  over  the  remains  of  a  friend  that  loved  us  with 
a  love  that  was  stronger  than  death;  over  the  ashes,  as  it  were,  of  that 
burnt  sacrifice  which  Avas  made  for  your  peace;  over  the  symbols  which 
exhibit  the  Redeemer  "evidently  set  forth  crucified  among  you" — I  do 
tenderly  and  most  solemnly  obtest  and  conjure  you,  that  you  renounce 
your  sins,  and  without  delay  flee  to  Christ  for  salvation;  that  you  "kiss 
the  son  lest  he  be  angry,  and  ye  perish  from  the  way." 

3.  Lastly.     This  subject  speaks  the   most  comfortable  and   encou- 
raging language  to  those  who  are  about  to  sit  down  at  the  table  of  the 
Lord.     Christ  is  our  peace;  and  now,  dear  brethren,  we  are  going  to 
commemorate  the  great  transaction  by  which  peace  was  obtained.    To 
this  the  dear  Redeemer  here  invites  us.    Let  us  endeavour  to  draw  near 
in  the  exercise  of  repentance,  faith,  and  love.    Must  we  not  be  filled  with 
penitential  sorrow,  while  we  recollect  the  sins  which  needed  such  a  sa- 
crifice to  make  expiation  for  them.^     Must  we  not  be  deeply  grieved, 
and  humbled,  and  abased,  while  we  think  that  our  sins  had  their  full 
share  in  tlie  infliction  of  agony,  crucifixion  and  death,  on  the  Lord  of 
life  and  glory.     Truly,  the  infinite  malignity,  and  the  tremendous  pun- 
ishment due  to  sin,  no  where   appear  so  conspicuously — not  even  in 
the  flames  of  hell — as  in  the  cross  of  Christ.    Here  then,  let  us  contem- 
plate our  guilt  and  our  desert;  and  let  penitential   sorrow  melt   our 
hearts,  and  bring  us  very  low  before  our  God.     But  blessed  be  his  holy 
name,  while  the  demerit  and  desert  of  sin  are  most  conspicuously  and 
awfully  displayed  in  the  sacrifice  of  Christ,  that  same  sacrifice  exhibits, 
with  equal  clearness,  the  complete  atonement,  the  full  satisfaction,  the 
finished  expiation,  which  was  made  for  that  very  sin,  though  it  be  "of 
a  scarlet  colour  and  crimson  dye,"  in  behalf  of  all  who  look  away  from 
every  thing  else,  and  trust  their  souls  simply,  unreservedly,  and  con- 
fidingly, into  the  hands  of  their  redeeming  God.    So,  beloved  brethren, 
let  us  now  do.     Let  our  faith  embrace  him  without  wavering.     Let  us 
afresh  "put  on  Christ."     In  the  exercise  of  precious  faith,  let  us  draw 
over  us  the  spotless  robe  of  the  Saviour's  righteousness,  that  it  may 
"be  unto  and  upon  us,"  to  cover  all  our  guilt  and  our  pollution,  to  be 
our  complete  justification  before  the  throTie  of  God,  and  prove  our  title 
to  eternal  life.     With  this  "  wedding  garment,"  let  us  go  to  the  gospel 
feast  before  us;  and  there,  with  the  appointed  symbols  and  seals,  let  us 
solemnly  re-ratify  our  covenant  engagements  to  our  blessed  Lord,  and 
take  his  i-enewed  covenant  pledge  that  he  will  be  ^^  our  peace"  for  time 
and  for  eternity.     "O  the  breadth,  and  length,  and  depth,  and  height, 
of  the  love  of  Christ — it  passeth  knowledge."     Yes,  verily,  we  can 
never  know  it  fully  in  time,  and  it  will  form  the  delightful  study  and 
meditation  of  glorified  spirits  throughout  eternity.     But  we  are  taught 
so  to  contemplate  it  now^  as  that  we  may  "  be  filled  with  all  the  fulness 
of  God."     Help  us,  gracious  Lord,  in  these  contemplations,  while  we  • 
sit  at  thy  table;  and  let  thy  "  love  constrain  us"  to  consecrate  our  hearts 
and  our  lives  to  thee;  and  O  be  thou  with  us,  to  make  us  faithful  unto 
the  death,  that  we  may  receive  the  crown  of  life  eternal.     Amen. 


The  Soul  Resting  in  God.  IT 


THE  SOUL  RESTING  IN  GOD. 

Psalm  cxvi.  7. — "  Return  unto  thy  rest,  O  my  soul ;  for  the  Lord  hath  dealt  bountifully 

with  thee." 

Notwithstanding  the  questions  which  have  been  raised  relative  to 
the  author  of  the  psalm  in  which  these  words  are  found,  we  hesitate 
not  to  ascribe  them  to  that  eminent  saint,  who  is  called  in  the  sacred 
records,  "  the  sweet  Psalmist  of  Israel,"  and  "  the  man  after  God's 
own  heart."  This  distinguished  personage  was  not  only,  by  divine 
designation,  the  king  of  the  ancient  chosen  people  of  Jehovah,  and  the 
successful  warrior  whose  conquests  had  put  into  their  possession  the 
whole  domain  that  had  been  promised  to  their  fathers^  but  he  was  also 
richly  endowed  with  the  gifts  both  of  prophecy  and  poetry.  His  inspi- 
red lyrics  have  formed  the  principal  source  of  devotional  song  for  the 
church  of  God,  in  every  age  since  their  publication.  The  psalms  of 
David  unquestionably  abound  in  such  lofty  descriptions  of  the  divine 
attributes,  such  exalted  strains  of  adoration  and  praise,  such  heavenly 
aspirations  of  soul,  and  such  wonderful  examples  of  the  communing 
of  the  human  spirit  with  the  great  Father  of  spirits,  as  have  never 
been  surpassed,  perhaps  never  equalled,  except  in  the  case  of  our 
blessed  Redeemer,  who,  in  one  mysterious  person,  united  our  nature 
with  the  Godhead.  Yet  the  spiritual  depressions  of  the  royal  psalmist 
seem  to  have  been  correspondent  to  his  elevations;  and  the  exemplifi- 
cation of  this  in  the  psalm  before  us,  decides  our  belief  that  it  is  his 
composition.  Strong,  and  striking  indeed,  is  the  language  of  the  con- 
text, in  describing  its  author's  deep  affliction  and  distress.  "  The  sor- 
rows of  death,  he  says,  compassed  me,  and  the  pains  of  hell  gat  hold 
upon  me;  I  found  trouble  and  sorrow."  Under  such  feelings,  even  if 
inspiration  had  not  guided  him,  he  could  not  have  spoken  lightly  on 
the  subject  of  rest.  His  language,  notwithstanding,  is  the  language  of 
confidence,  when  he  tells  us,  not  only  where  he  had  once  found  it,  but 
where  he  might  find  it  again.  , "  Return  unto  thy  rest,  O  my  soul,  for 
the  Lord  hath  dealt  bountifully  with  thee." 

In  speaking  on  this  passage  of  holy  writ — principally  on  the  first 
part  of  it — I  will,  in  reliance  on  divine  assistance,  endeavour — 

I.  To  show  where,  and  in  what  it  was,  that  the  psalmist  confidently 
expected  to  find  the  relief  which  he  so  much  needed  and  desired. 

II.  To  evince  that  it  possesses  all  the  properties  which  he  ascribes 
to  it,  when  he  calls  it  emphatically  his  rest. 

III.  To  show  what  will  enable  and  entitle  us,  to  appropriate  and 
apply  to  ourselves,  the  consolatory  language  of  the  text. 

After  this,  a  short  improvement  shall  conclude  the  discourse. 

Frst,  then,  we  are  to  consider  where,  and  in  what  it  was,  that  the 
psalmist  confidently  expected  to  find  the  relief  which  he  so  much  need- 
ed and  desii-ed. 

It  scarcely  seems  necessary  to  observe,  that  the  author  of  the  text 
must  have  intended  something  more  by  it,  than  merely  that  he  would 
attempt  to  quiet  and  compose  his  mind,  by  the  ordinary  means  and 
endeavours  which  are  used  for  that  purpose.  TJie  manner  of  his  ex- 
pression, as  well  as  the  whole  connexion  of  the  words,  plainly  demon- 
C 


18  The  Soul  Resting  in  God. 

strates,  that  he  had  in  view  some  distinct  and  peculiar  object,  toward 
which  he  might  turn  the  current  of  his  thoughts,  and  by  centring 
them  on  which,  they  would  naturally  and  certainly  obtain  composure 
and  quiet.  He  speaks  of  this  rest  as  a  fixed  and  unfailing  resource,  to 
which  he  might  return  as  to  a  home,  whenever  he  wanted  refreshment 
and  enjoyment  for  his  mind. — My  brethren,  this  object,  this  resource, 
this  home,  this  resting  place  for  the  soul,  is  God  himself.  The  psalm- 
ist clearly  intimates  this  in  the  latter  part  of  the  text. — "Return  unto 
thy  rest,  O  my  soul;  for  the  Lord  hath  dealt  bountifully  with  thee" — 
That  is — ^'  Let  thy  meditations  fix  themselves  on  thy  God,  who  hath 
bountifully  supplied  all  thy  necessities,  whenever  thou  hast  fled  from 
the  broken  cisterns  of  creature  reliefs  to  him  alone."  The  same  senti- 
ments are  expressed  and  repeated,  immediately  before  and  immediately 
after  the  text.  "  Gracious  is  the  Lord  and  righteous,  yea  our  God  is 
merciful.  The  Lord  preserveth  the  simple,  I  was  brought  low  and  he 
helped  me — Thou  hast  delivered  my  soul  from  death,  mine  eyes  from 
tears,  and  my  feet  from  falling.  What  shall  I  render  unto  the  Lord 
for  all  his  benefits  towards  me.  I  will  take  the  cup  of  salvation  and 
call  on  the  name  of  the  Lord.  Precious  in  the  sight  of  the  Lord  is  the 
death  of  his  saints."  The  whole  of  these  expressions  point  us  to  God 
as  the  rest  of  the  psalmist's  soul.  In  contemplating  the  infinite  excel- 
lence of  the  divine  nature;  in  surveying  the  glory  of  the  divine  attri- 
butes; in  calling  to  mind  that  a  God  of  boundless  wisdom,  power  and 
goodness,  would  infallibly  order  every  thing  for  the  best;  in  recollect- 
ing and  believing  that  this  God  was  in  covenant  with  his  soul,— recon- 
ciled to  him  through  the  blood  of  the  covenant,  and  engaged  to  be  to 
him,  and  to  do  for  him,  infinitely  more  and  better  than  he  could  con- 
ceive,— to  be  his  protector  now  and  his  portion  to  all  eternity; — in  the 
indulgence  of  these  meditations;  in  the  cultivation  of  these  exercises; 
in  the  consciousness  of  such  possessions,  and  the  cherishing  of  such 
expectations,  he  expected  his  mind  to  be  fully  tranquillized  and  satis- 
fied. However  great  his  troubles,  however  imminent  his  dangers, 
however  involved  his  perplexities,  however  keen  his  anguish,  here  was 
one  remedy  for  all;  here  he  would  be  at  rest — Here  was  a  peaceful  re- 
gion, where  the  storms  of  distress  could  never  gather,  to  which  the 
blasts  of  discontentment  could  never  reach.  Here  he  would  feel  himself 
secure  from  the  world, — secure  from  all  possible  accidents,  and  would 
experience  all  those  desirable  sensations  which  arise  from  a  mind  se- 
rene and  satisfied.  Very  properly,  therefore,  might  he  call  this  a  rest- 
ing place  for  his  soul,  and  resolve  to  flee  to  it  for  refuge,  against  the 
calamities  which  had  been  pressing  him  so  heavily  and  painfully.  This 
I  am  to  show  more  fully,  by  endeavouring — 

IL  To  evince  that  the  psalmist's  resource  possesses  all  the  proper- 
ties that  he  ascribes  to  it,  when  he  calls  it,  with  emphasis,  his  rest. 

Let  us  here  consider  a  few  of  the  circumstances  essential  to  rest,  and 
see  if  they  are  not  always  the  concomitants  of  the  resource  we  con- 
template— 

L  In  order  to  be  at  rest  we  ought  to  be  in  safety/.  Without  safety 
there  can  be  no  rational  or  durable  quiet.  The  thoughtless  and  stupid 
may,  indeed,  be  free  from  alarm  in  the  midst  of  danger.  But  this  is 
insensibility  or  infatuation,  rather  than  rest.  Dreadful,  surely,  and  not 
desirable,  must  be  that  composure  which  wholly  depends  on  ignorance, 
or  the  want  of  consideration — on  not  knowing,  or  not  considering, 
what  one's  true  situation  is.  It  is  not  only  bad  while  it  lasts,  but  it  is 
continually  liable  to  detection.     He  who  reposes  on  forgetfulness  or 


The  Soul  Resting  in  God,  19 

falsehood,  may,  at  any  moment,  be  awakened  to  misery;  and  if  never 
awakened,  his  protracted  slumbers  can  only  end  in  perdition.  Of  that, 
therefore,  which  deserves  the  name  of  rest,  safety  is  an  essential  attri- 
bute. Now  this  attribute  of  safety  was  not  peculiar  to  the  condition 
of  the  prince  and  prophet  who  uttered  the  text.  It  equally  belongs 
to  the  state  and  situation  of  every  child  of  God.  The  closest  exa- 
mination, and  the  imagination  even  of  the  most  numerous  and  singu- 
lar circumstances,  will  but  tend  to  demonstrate  the  extent  of  his  se- 
curity. 

Say  that  there  is  a  dark  aspect  spread  over  human  affairs  in  general, 
or  over  those  in  which  the  saint  is  more  immediately  concerned.  Sen- 
sible of  his  interest  in  the  divine  favour,  and  having  his  own  will  swal- 
lowed up  in  the  will  of  God,  he  may  and  ought  to  indulge  in  such  medi- 
tations as  these — "  My  heavenly  Father  is  the  absolute  Sovereign  and  di- 
rector of  all  events:  and  will  not  the  Judge  of  all  the  earth  do  right.^  Do 
I  not  desire  that  his  counsel  should  stand,  and  that  he  should  do  all  his 
pleasure?  Mournful,  indeed,  is  the  contemplation  of  human  misery,  and 
it  is  my  duty  to  use  my  utmost  efforts  to  prevent  or  to  diminish  it;  but 
still,  I  am  warranted  to  take  comfort  in  the  thought,  that  come  to  pass 
what  may,  God  will  eventually  overrule  it  for  good.  He,  especially, 
who  controls  all  things,  and  without  whose  superintending  care  a 
sparrow  falleth  not  to  the  ground.  He,  assuredly,  will  take  care  of  a 
child  who  looks  to  and  depends  upon  him.  Yes,  he  hath  promised  to 
do  it,  and  he  cannot  deceive.  He  hath  promised  '  to  withhold  no 
good  thing  from  them  that  walk  uprightly.'  He  hath  declared  '  that 
all  things  work  together  for  good  to  them  that  love  God; — that  all 
things  are  theirs,  things  present  and  things  to  come,  life  or  death,  all 
are  theirs.'  What  is  best  for  me  or  for  others,  I  know  not:  But  my 
heavenly  Father  knoweth,  and  with  him  it  is  my  privilege  to  leave  it. 
It  may,  indeed,  be  the  loss  of  something  that  I  value,  or  the  refusal  of 
something  that  I  wish.  But  if  the  loss  or  the  refusal  will  terminate  in 
my  ultimate  advantage,  let  me  welcome  a  merciful  disappointment. 
Confident,  therefore,  that  he  who  directs  all  events  will  not  permit  me 
to  be  afflicted  unless  it  be  for  my  good,  and  desirous  of  affliction  if  it 
will,  I  will  be  at  rest;  for  I  have  trusted  all  my  concerns  into  his  hands, 
and  there  they  must  be  safe."  Brethren — Here  is  no  exaggeration — 
Here  is  nothing  but  practical  truth,  and  unquestionable  Christian  ex- 
perience. The  triumphant  language  of  the  prophet  Habakkuk  is 
in  strict  and  full  accordance  with  the  representation  I  have  given. 
"Although  the  fig-tree  shall  not  blossom,  neither  shall  fruit  be  in  the 
vines,  the  labour  of  the  olive  shall  fail,  and  the  fields  shall  yield  no  meat, 
the  flock  shall  be  cut  off  from  the  fold,  and  there  shall  be  no  herd  in 
the  stall:  Yet  I  will  rejoice  in  the  Lord,  I  will  joy  in  the  God  of  my 
salvation." 

Say,  again,  that  the  man  who  has  made  God  his  refuge,  is  beset  with 
enemies;  which  seems  to  have  been  in  some  measure  the  cause  of  dis- 
tress to  the  author  of  the  text — Still  he  will  realize  that  he  is  safe, 
under  the  divine  protection.  He  will  recollect  the  declaration  which 
saith — "  Surely  the  wrath  of  man  shall  praise  thee;  the  remainder  of 
wrath  shalt  thou  restrain,"  and  the  gracious  assurance — "  He  will  keep 
thee  as  the  apple  of  his  eye."  His  trust,  therefore,  is  in  God,  and 
here,  being  safe,  he  is  at  rest. 

Or  say  that  even  the  life  of  him  who  has  the  psalmist's  resource  is 
threatened — Still  he  has  the  consolation  to  reflect  that  he  is  safe.  Death 
to   him  can  bring  no  danger.     I   assert  not,  that  it  will  not  some- 


20  Tlie  Soul  Resting  in  God. 

times  bring  a  degree  of  alarm.  The  consciousness  of  remaining  cor- 
ruption, a  deep  sense  of  ill  desert,  the  weakness  of  faith,  the  impor- 
tance of  the  unchangeable  state  on  which  he  is  entering,  the  natural 
dread  of  dissolution,  may,  by  their  separate  or  combined  influence, 
excite  some  perturbation.  But  still  you  will  observe,  he  is  safe — safe 
in  fact,  although  he  cannot  take  all  the  comforts  to  which  he  is  enti- 
tled. His  case  is  the  very  reverse  of  that  of  the  impious  man,  who  is 
in  danger  while  he  is  unalarmed.  One  dark  step  will  terminate  all  the 
gloom  of  the  child  of  God,  and  usher  him  into  the  regions  of  eternal 
day.  But  this,  you  will  recollect,  is  putting  the  case  at  the  very  worst. 
Frequently — very  frequently — the  saint  is  able  to  repose,  in  unshaken 
confidence,  on  the  faithfulness  of  Him  in  whose  eyes  "  the  death  of  his 
saints  is  precious."  Supported  by  this  confidence,  the  bed  of  death  is 
to  him  a  bed  of  the  sweetest  rest,  as  well  as  safety.  He  can  say,  and 
the  speaker  has  heard  it  from  expiring  lips — 

"  Jesus  can  make  a  dying  bed 

Feel  soft  as  downy  pillows  are; 
While  on  his  breast  I  lean  my  head, 

And  breathe  my  life  out  sweetly  there." 

Yes,  the  believer  can  say — casting  the  eye  of  faith  on  the  mansions 
which  his  Saviour  has  promised  and  gone  to  prepare — "  Return  unto 
thy  rest — thy  eternal  rest,  O  my  soul."  I  now  see  it  nearj  it  is  full  in 
viewj  the  rest  that  remaineth  for  the  people  of  God.  "  Come,  Lord 
Jesus — even  so — come  quickly." 

Thus  it  appears,  that  the  attribute  of  safety,  which  is  so  essential  to 
rest,  will,  in  every  possible  situation,  be  found  by  the  man  of  undis- 
sembled  piety.  Unbelievers  themselves  must  allow,  that  his  state  is 
the  safest  of  all.  If  they  think  that  his  religion  is  false,  they  must 
still  admit  that  it  is  safe — that  it  cannot  injure  him  beyond  the  grave. 
He  is,  therefore,  like  a  merchant  whose  goods  are  all  gratuitously  in- 
sured. He  can  lose  nothing;  and  whatever  is  to  be  gained,  he  is  sure 
to  gain  it.  He  is  on  the  safe  side  of  the  momentous  question,  and  is, 
consequently,  entitled  to  be  at  rest. 

2.  Freedom  from  pain  and  anxiety,  is  a  circumstance  necessary  to 
rest. 

My  brethren — The  present  state  was  intended  to  be  a  state  of  trial. 
No  individual,  therefore,  of  whatever  condition  or  character,  will  be 
wholly  exempted  from  affliction.  The  Deity  hath  never  promised  that 
his  own  children  shall  escape  it.  On  the  contrary,  he  hath  promised 
that,  when  necessary,  they  shall  endure  it— -"For  whom  the  Lord  lov- 
eth  he  chasteneth,  and  scourgeth  every  son  whom  he  receiveth.  If  ye 
endure  chastening,  God  dealeth  with  you  as  with  sons;  for  what  son  is 
he  whom  the  Father  chasteneth  not."  It  is,  however,  the  happy  lot  of 
the  people  of  God  to  be  perfectly  assured  that  they  shall  be  preserved 
from  all  unnecessary  distress,  and  that  what  they  suffer  shall  not  only 
be  sanctified  to  them  in  the  end,  but  that  they  shall  find  solace  or  sup- 
port during  its  continuance.  This  is  to  speak  within  the  bounds  of 
the  strictest  verity.  The  word  of  life  declares,  and  experience  wit- 
nesses to  its  truth, — "That  the  Lord  is  a  strong  hold  in  the  day  of 
trouble:"  And  to  possess  the  soul  in  peace,  to  have  internal  quiet  and 
satisfaction,  is  to  pluck  from  affliction  its  most  envenomed  sting. 
When  the  mind  can  lean  with  confidence  on  some  stable  support,  ad- 
versity, pain  and  suffering,  are  half  annihilated. 

These,  then,  are  the  favourable  circumstances  in  which  those  who 
have  confidence  in  the  divine  favour  will  encounter  the  pains  of  the 


The  Saul  Restins  in  God,  21 


'O 


body,  or  the  anxieties  of  the  mind.  While  the  satisfying  sense  of  the 
love  of  God  abides  on  their  hearts,  they  will  be  able  to  say  with  the  apos- 
tle— "  We  rejoice  even  in  tribulation" — and—"  Though  our  outward 
man  perish,  yet  the  inward  man  is  renewed  day  by  day — For  our  light 
affliction,  which  is  but  for  a  moment,  worketh  for  us  a  far  more  exceed- 
ing and  eternal  weight  of  glory.  While  we  look,  not  at  the  things 
which  are  seen,  but  at  the  things  which  are  not  seen:  For  the  things 
which  are  seen  are  temporal,  but  the  things  which  are  not  seen  are 
eternal."  The  representation  of  the  apostle  here  is,  that  the  attention 
of  a  suffering  saint,  even  while  he  is  immediately  under  the  rod,  may 
be  so  taken  up  with  the  contemplation  and  assurance  of  better  things  to 
come,  that  he  will  but  lightly  feel,  and  little  regard,  the  pain  of  the  stroke 
which  is  inflicted.  This  certainly  is  a  matter  of  Christian  experience. 
The  pious  mind  may  be,  and  often  is,  so  engaged,  in  the  hour  of  afflic- 
tion, with  holy  meditations  and  consolations,  that  pain,  or  other  af- 
flictive circumstances,  lose  largely  the  effect  which  they  are  wont  to 
produce — Nay,  the  Christian  is  sometimes  ready  to  give  thanks  for  all 
that  he  endures,  finding  it  accompanied  with  a  divine  support,  not  or- 
dinarily experienced.  And  when,  for  a  little,  his  mind  is  drawn  off,  and 
his  attention  becomes  engaged  with  the  circumstances  which  afflict 
him,  which  certainly  is  often  the  case,  still  this  unfailing  and  consola- 
tory resource  is  ever  at  hand.  Recollection  comes  speedily  to  his  aid, 
and  pointing  to  heaven,  admonishes  the  soul — "Return  unto  thy  rest. 
Let  thy  thoughts  fix  again  upon  thy  God.  Flee  away  from  all  thy 
cares  and  thy  griefs,  and  solace  thyself  with  divine  consolations."  But 
this  is  anticipating  what  I  propose  to  state  distinctly — 

3.  That  a  circumstance  essentially  necessary  to  mental  rest  is,  that 
there  be  some  subject  to  dwell  upon,  which  is  pleasing,  soothing,  satis- 
fying, and  delightful — This  seems  to  have  been  most  directly  in  the 
view  of  the  sacred  penman  of  the  words  before  us.  He  had  been 
greatly  perplexed  and  agitated  with  distressing,  anxious,  and  pain- 
ful emotions.  Worn  out  with  them,  at  last,  he  resolves  to  banish  them 
from  his  mind,  by  turning  his  thoughts  on  God,  his  exceeding  joy. 
This  it  is  which  gives  force  to  the  word  return.  He  had  wandered 
from  the  place  of  his  rest,  to  which  he  now  determines  again  to  resort. 
My  brethren — discontent,  uneasiness,  anxiety,  grief,  and  perturbation, 
may  steal  into  the  hearts  of  the  best  of  men,  and  grievously  corrode 
them  for  a  time.  But  it  is  their  peculiar  privilege  to  escape  at  length 
from  these  disquieting  intruders,  by  recurring  to  that  source  of  plenary 
satisfaction,  which  a  consciousness  of  the  divine  favour  opens  for  them. 
I  am  aware  that  I  have  already  called  your  attention  to  this  considera- 
tion. But  I  must  enlarge  upon  it  a  little;  it  is  worthy  of  a  more  dis- 
tinct notice.  Judge,  then,  I  say,  if  that  man  has  not  a  subject  for  me- 
ditation calculated  to  speak  peace  to  his  troubled  spirit,  v/ho  can  con- 
template infinite  wisdom,  power,  and  goodness,  with  the  pleasing 
confidence  that  they  are  engaged  for  his  protection  and  happiness? 
May  not  he  with  good  reason  be  at  rest,  who  can  reflect  that  God  Al- 
mighty is  his  friend,  by  solemn  covenant  and  oath.^  That  he  who  sits 
at  the  helm  of  the  universe  will  govern  and  direct  all  his  concerns,  in 
such  a  manner  as  shall  issue  in  his  safety  and  advantage?  Are  not 
these  reflections  adapted  to  still  the  agitation,  soothe  the  anguish,  or 
dispel  the  darkness  of  the  mind?  May  not  he  who  is  entitled  to  in- 
dulge them,  say  with  great  propriety — "  Return  unto  thy  rest,  O  my 
soul — Leave  these  perplexing  concerns,  about  which  thou  art  so 
anxious.     Thou  hast  disquieted  thyself  too  much  already;  turn  thy 


22  The  Soul  Restin";  in  God. 


^s 


thoughts  upon  thy  God;  there  thou  wilt  not  fail  to  find  peace  and  re- 
pose; there  thou  wilt  see  thy  present  safety  and  thy  future  glory;  there 
thou  wilt  see  how  Utile  and  unworthy  are  the  things  which  give  thee 
so  much  uneasiness;  there  thou  wilt  see  their  short  duration;  there 
thou  wilt  see  thyself  raised  above  them;  there  thy  God  will  hide  thee 
in  his  pavilion,  and  shelter  thee  from  every  annoyance.  Return,  there- 
fore, return  unto  thy  rest,  O  my  soul;  '  for  the  Lord  hath  dealt  bounti- 
fully with  thee.'  " 

Let  us  now,  very  briefly,  consider — 

in.  What  will  entitle  and  enable  us  to  appropriate  and  apply  to  our- 
selves the  language  of  the  text.  In  addresses  from  the  sacred  desk,  my 
brethren,  it  is  often  quite  as  important  to  inculcate  truth,  as  to  teach 
or  explain  it;  to  endeavour  to  bring  home  to  the  hearts  and  consciences 
of  our  hearers  the  doctrine  which,  in  abstract  speculation,  they  will 
readily  admit.  So  I  think,  it  is  with  the  subject  before  us.  There  is 
little  need  of  argument  to  show,  that  if  we  would  be  partakers  of  the 
psalmist's  privilege,  it  is  indispensable  that  we  possess  a  portion  of 
the  psalmist's  temper.  It  is  manifest  at  once,  that  there  can  be  no 
rest,  where  there  is  enmity  against  the  party  in  whose  favour  and  lov- 
ing kindness  rest  must  be  found.  Now  the  oracles  of  infallible  truth 
assure  us,  that  "  the  carnal  mind  is  enmity  against  God,"  and  of  course 
God  cannot  be  the  rest  of  the  carnal  mind,  while  its  enmity  remains. 
The  thing,  you  perceive,  is  a  natural  impossibility.  It  is  so,  because 
the  sinner  never  will,  in  fact,  seek  rest  in  God;  and  if  he  did,  he  would 
find  nothing  but  what  was  hostile,  as  well  as  hateful  to  him.  It  be- 
hooves each  of  us,  therefore,  to  let  the  truth  sink  deep  into  his  heart, 
that,  before  it  be  possible  for  him  to  appropriate  and  apply  to  himself 
the  language  of  the  text,  he  must  possess  such  a  temper  as  that  his  de- 
sires may  be  gratified,  and  the  highest  pleasure  of  his  mind  be  furnish- 
ed, by  the  contemplation  of  all  the  divine  attributes  and  dispensations. 
Yes,  beloved  hearers,  you  must  be  transformed  by  the  renewing  of  your 
mind;  you  must  be  born  again — and  born  of  the  Spirit;  you  must  be 
made  to  love  what  God  loves,  and  to  hate  what  he  hates;  you  must,  in 
a  word,  be  truly  reconciled  to  God  through  Jesus  Christ,  before  the 
soul  of  any  one  of  you  can  rest  in  God.  Without  this,  no  one  can  be 
entitled  to  use  the  language  of  the  text,  for  the  obvious  reason  that  he 
cannot  use  it  with  truth  or  propriety.  Hear  the  oracle  of  God — "  The 
wicked  are  like  the  troubled  sea  when  it  cannot  rest,  whose  waters  cast 
up  mire  and  dirt." 

But,  my  brethren,  if  we  would  be  able,  at  all  times^  to  find  our  rest  in 
God,  we  must  not  only  be  truly  reconciled  to  him,  but  we  must  be 
much  engaged  in  holy  intercourse  and  communion  with  him.  This  is 
the  only  method  by  which  we  can  be  enabled  to  take  up  our  rest  in  him 
in  the  time  of  need.  Alasl  it  is  because  we  make  so  little  use  of  our 
rest,  that  we  are  so  often  brought  into  doubt  whether  we  have  a  title  to 
it;  and  thus  exclude  ourselves  from  its  benefits,  when  the  necessity  of 
them  is  most  sensibly  felt.  Our  souls  fix  and  centre  on  God  so  seldom, 
that  they  become  inapt  for  the  exercise.  Yes,  and  the  people  of  God, 
sometimes  look  so  much  to  the  creature  for  their  rest,  that  they  feel 
afraid  and  ashamed  to  look  to  Ciod  for  it,  when  the  creature  fails;  and 
they  have  to  pass  through  a  deeply  humbling  process,  before  they 
can  get  back  to  their  rest.  Let  us  see  the  importance,  then,  of  being- 
familiar  with  this  blessed  rest,  that  we  may  be  able  to  resort  to  it  with 
ease,  when  pressed  by  necessity.  Let  us  earnestly  endeavour  to  keep 
our  title  to  it  clear  and  free  from  doubt.     Let  us,  so  to  speak,  often 


The  Soul  Resting  in  God,  £3 

travel  the  path  which  leads  to  it.     Let  it  be  the  daily  employment  of 
our  souls  to  commune  with  God.     Thus  shall  we  be  able  speedily  and 
easily  to  fly  to  him  as  our  rest  on  every  emergency;  and  at  all  times 
shall  be  entitled  and  enabled  to  appropriate  and  apply  to  ourselves  the- 
language  of  the  text,  with  humble,  holy  confidence. 

For  the  improvement  of  the  subject,  we  may  learn  from  it — 

1.  What  is  the  precise  difference  between  the  righteous  and  the 
wicked  in  this  life,  in  point  of  enjoyment — The  good  man  has  a  rest- 
ing place  for  his  soul,  and  the  bad  man  has  not.  This  is  the  line 
which  divides,  and  will  forever  divide,  their  portions,  even  in  this 
world.  Nor  is  this  an  inconsiderable  difference.  It  is,  on  the  con- 
trary, inconceivably  great.  A  sense  of  unconditional  safety;  a  refuge 
in  all  seasons  of  distress;  a  subject  of  high,  delightful,  and  satisfactory 
contemplation;  and  a  well-founded  expectation  of  an  eternal  weight  of 
glory — This  is  now  the  portion  of  the  sanctified  man,  and  it  is  the  por- 
tion of  no  un sanctified  man. 

It  is  true,  indeed,  that  pious  men  may  have  their  glooms,  their 
doubts,  and  their  fears;  but  these  ultimately  bring  them  more  fully  to 
their  rest,  and  even  heighten  by  contrast  the  delights  it  affords.  Their 
seasons  of  darkness,  therefore,  are  only  like  shades  in  a  picture,  which 
increase  on  the  whole  the  beauty  of  the  piece.  It  is  also  true,  we  ad- 
mit, that  wicked  men  may,  at  present,  sometimes  forget  their  situa- 
tion, be  ignorant  of  their  danger,  enjoy  the  world,  and  indulge  in  its 
pleasures.  But  this  forge tfulness,  it  must  also  be  remembered,  only 
enhances  their  misery,  when  a  sense  of  their  danger  is  forced  upon 
them.  Then  their  pleasures  are  often  converted  into  pains;  and  at  the 
best  they  can  never  satisfy  the  mind.  They  forever  leave  in  it  a  dread- 
ful, craving  void.  That  great,  permanent,  soul-filling  portion,  which 
confidence  in  the  divine  favour  bestows,  they  never  do  or  can  possess. 
Most  pitiably,  therefore,  do  impenitent  sinners  mistake,  when  they 
suppose  that  to  become  religious  would  diminish  their  pleasure,  and 
destroy  their  happiness.  Alas!  without  religion,  they  can  never  know 
what  true  pleasure,  what  solid  happiness  is.     Therefore, 

2.  Let  me  from  this  subject  exhort  those  present  who  have  hitherto 
been  looking  to  the  world  as  the  only  source  of  their  enjoyment,  now 
to  seek  it  in  a  reconciliation  with  God  through  Jesus  Christ.  "  Come 
unto  me,  said  the  blessed  Saviour,  all  ye  that  labour  and  are  heavy 
laden,  and  I  will  give  you  rest."  Lovers  of  pleasures  more  than 
lovers  of  God — why  will  you  not  listen  to  this  invitation  of  the  Sa- 
viour? In  your  present  pursuits,  believe  me,  you  are  like  the  dove  that 
was  sent  forth  by  Noah.  Direct  your  course  as  you  may,  there  is  no- 
thing but  troubled  waters  beneath  you.  Above  the  threatening  billows, 
you  may  indeed  be  borne  for  a  short  space,  on  the  wings  of  excited 
fancy  and  passion.  But  these  deceptive  pinions  will  not  long  sustain 
you,  they  will  soon  droop  and  fail;  and  then,  if  you  are  excluded  from 
the  ark  of  safety,  you  plunge  and  are  lost  forever  in  the  bottomless  abyss. 
Listen,  therefore,' to  the  voice  of  the  Saviour,  now  inviting  you  to  quit 
your  wanderings,  and  to  take  refuge,  and  find  rest  in  him.  Now,  if  you 
will  be  obedient  to  his  call — If  abasing  yourselves  in  the  dust  of  humi- 
lity for  your  sins;  if  imploring  and  receiving  the  aid  of  his  good  Spi- 
rit, you  truly  renounce  every  false  way,  and  rely  on  his  merits, 
righteousness,  and  intercession  alone,  for  salvation,  he  will  not  reject 
you;  he  will  receive  you  into  his  favour,  and  will  assuredly  give  you 
rest — Rest  from  the  torments  of  a  guilty  conscience;  rest  from  the  ty- 


24  The  Character t  Deception,  Danger,  and  Duty,  of  those 

ranny  of  your  lusts;  and  at  last,  an  eternal  rest  from  all  sin  and  all  sor- 
row, in  the  abodes  of  heavenly  peace. 

Finally — Although  the  rest  which  the  people  of  God  enjoy  in  him  at 
present,  is  derived,  in  great  part,  from  the  assurance  of  better  things 
to  come,  and  although  to  this  I  have  already  made  frequent  references, 
yet  I  cannot  conclude  this  discourse  without  calling  your  undivided  at- 
tention, for  a  moment,  to  the  apostolic  declaration,  that  "  there  remain- 
eth  a  rest  for  the  people  of  God" — What  they  have  at  present,  is  only 
an  earnest,  a  foretaste,  of  what  awaits  them  in  a  future  state.  In  the  pre- 
sent life,  tlieir  sanctitication  is  imperfect;  and  hence  their  rest  in  God, 
although  it  seems  at  times  to  antedate  heaven,  is,  as  we  have  seen,  often 
interrupted — The  remainders  of  corruption  operate  to  interrupt  it;  and 
not  only  this,  but  the  connexion  of  the  soul  with  the  body,  will  not  ad- 
mit of  high  and  unbroken  spiritual  enjoyment.  If  the  necessary  con- 
cerns of  life  did  not,  as  they  certainly  do,  prevent  such  enjoyment,  the 
human  mind  cannot  at  present  endure  a  long  continuance  of  that  holy 
excitement  which  is  its  inseparable  attendant.  In  view  of  these  causes 
of  the  interruption  and  imperfection  to  which  the  spiritual  repose  and 
felicity  of  the  believer  is  subject,  while  he  dwells  in  the  body,  the  apos- 
tle, in  the  words  I  have  quoted,  speaks  of  a  rest  which  remaineth — 
speaks  as  if  what  is  enjoyed  here,  is  so  inferior  to  that  which  is  to  be 
possessed  hereafter,  that  the  present  is  hardly  worthy  of  the  name;  it 
is  a  rest  J  but  it  is  not  the  rest,  which  shall  be  known  in  the  mansions 
above.  Yes,  beloved  brethren  in  the  Lord,  such  is  unquestionably  the 
fact.  The  grace  of  God  has  opened  in  your  souls  "  a  well  of  living 
water;"  the  water  is  "springing  up,"  but  it  has  not  yet  reached,  to 
"  life  everlasting."  You  have  at  present  only  a  prelibation — compara- 
tively only  a  drop,  and  that  not  an  unmingled  drop — of  "  the  rivers  of 
pleasure"  which  flow  at  God's  right  hand — 

"  There  you  shall  bathe  your  weary  soul 

In  seas  of  heavenly  rest; 
And  not  a  wave  of  sorrow  roll 

Across  your  peaceful  breast." 

Let  this  glorious  prospect  soothe  every  sorrow;  dry  every  weeping 
eye;  put  the  world  under  your  feet;  animate  you  in  the  cause  of  God; 
and  till  you  with  a  holy,  but  well-regulated  desire,  to  depart,  and  to  be 
with  Christ.  There  you  Avill  know  that  "  far  better"  rest,  and  those  ce- 
lestial joys,  which  eye  hath  not  seen;  of  which  no  mortal  ear  hath 
heard,  and  of  which  an  adequate  conception  hath  never  entered  an  un- 
glorified  spirit.     Amen. 


SERMOIT. 

THE  CHARACTER,  DECEPTION,  DANGER  AND  DUTY,  OF  THOSE 
WHO  HAVE  HEARD,  AND  HAVE  NOT  OBEYED  THE  WORD  OF 
GOD. 

James  i.  22,  23,  24. — "  But  be  ye  doers  of  the  word  and  not  hearers  only,  deceiving 
your  own  solves.  For  if  any  man  be  a  hearer  of  the  word,  and  not  a  doer,  he  is  like 
unto  a  man  beholding  his  natural  face  in  a  glass.  For  he  beholdeth  himself  and 
goeth  his  way,  and  straightway  forgetteth  what  manner  of  man  he  was." 

The  apostle  James  seems  to  have  written  his  epistle,  with  the  ex- 
press design  of  reproving  the  primitive  Christians,  for  that  degree  of 
degeneracy  which,  even  then,  had  appeared  in  the  church;  and  of  cor- 


who  have  heard,  and  have  not  obeyed,  the  Word  of  God*         25 

reeling  a  number  of  errors,  into  which  the  hearers  of  the  gospel  had 
ah-eady  fallen.  Among  these  errors,  he  soon  proceeds  to  notice  a  mis- 
taken and  faulty  manner  of  attending  on  the  word  of  God.  His  obser^ 
vations  and  admonitions  on  this  subject  are  extended  through  several 
verses,  beside  those  on  which  I  am  now  to  discourse.  But  these  con- 
tain the  substance  of  the  whole — The  rest  of  his  remarks  on  this  topic, 
are  but  the  extension  and  explanation  of  what  seems  to  be  embodied  in 
the  text. 

In  the  verses  before  us,  I  shall  take  the  liberty,  which  it  is  often 
necessary  to  take,  in  considering  detached  passages  of  scripture,  of 
transposing  the  order  in  which  the  clauses  or  sentences  are  arranged, 
so  as  to  favour  the  main  object  of  the  discourse.  This  object,  in  the 
present  address,  is  clearly  expressed  in  the  first  of  the  three  verses, 
which  have  been  read — "  Be  ye  doers  of  the  word  and  not  hearers  only.'* 
But  in  order  to  explain  and  inculcate  it  the  better,  and  to  guard  against 
certain  common  and  dangerous  errors,  I  propose  to  consider,  pre- 
viously, the  remarks  which  the  apostle  subjoins  to  the  first  precept. 
My  distribution  then  shall  be  this — 

I.  I  will  point  your  attention  to  the  nature  of  that  conduct  which  is 
at  once  explained  and  condemned  in  the  words — "If  any  man  be  a 
hearer  of  the  word,  and  not  a  doer,  he  is  like  unto  a  man  beholding  his 
natural  face  in  a  glass.  For  he  beholdeth  himself,  and  goeth  his  way, 
and  straightway  forgetteth  what  manner  of  man  he  was." 

II.  Notice  the  deception,  which  is  frequently  both  the  occasion  and 
the  consequence  of  the  conduct  described 5  and  which  is  referred  to  in 
the  words — "  deceiving  your  own  selves,"  and — 

III.  Endeavour  to  enforce  the  result  of  the  whole,  expressed  in  the 
^vords — "  Be  ye  doers  of  the  word  and  not  hearers  only." 

I.  We  begin  with  considering  the  nature  of  that  conduct  which  is 
at  once  explained  and  condemned  in  the  words — "If  any  man  be  a 
hearer  of  the  word,  and  not  a  doer,  he  is  like  unto  a  man  beholding  his 
natural  face  in  a  glass.  For  he  beholdeth  himself,  and  goeth  his  way, 
and  straightway  forgetteth  what  manner  of  man  he  was."  We  have, 
in  this  expression,  a  very  natural  and  lively  description  of  a  character, 
too  often  realized,  in  some  of  those  who  are  favoured  with  the  preaching 
of  the  gospel.  You  may  have  observed,  my  brethren,  among  those  who 
resort  to  the  public  exercises  of  the  sanctuary,  an  individual,  whose  cha- 
racter, as  an  attendant  there,  may,  without  material  error,  be  delineated 
thus — He  is  a  frequenter,  perhaps  a  diligent  frequenter,  of  the  house 
of  God;  and  while  present,  he  attends  with  careful,  it  may  be  with  cri- 
tical ears,  to  the  dispensation  of  divine  truth.  To  a  preacher  who  has 
occasion  and  skill  to  delineate  characters  with  justness  and  accuracy, 
he  listens,  even  with  pleasure  and  delight.  He  hears  his  own  character 
described,  and  scrutinizes  the  description.  He  enters  into  the  justness 
of  the  representation,  and  sees  himself — beholds  his  true  character, 
as  he  beholds  his  natural  face  in  a  glass.  He  is  conscious  that  his  con- 
dition, his  practices,  and  his  prospects,  are  fairly  and  truly  pourtrayed, 
in  all  their  discriminating  features,  and  natural  aspect.  In  short,  he  is 
sensible,  for  the  time,  what  sort  of  a  man  he  really  is — what  he  ought  to 
appear  in  his  own  eyes,  and  what  he  actually  appears  in  the  eyes  of  God. 
But  this  is  only  a  transient  view.  "  He  goeth  his  way,  and  straightway 
forgetteth  what  manner  of  man  he  was."  The  impressions  he  has  re- 
ceived, are  hardly  more  lasting  than  the  sound  of  the  words  which  pro- 
duced them.  They  pass  from  his  mind  as  speedily,  and  with  as  little 
effect,  as  the  imap:e  of  an  object,  received  from  a  mirror,  passes  from 
D 


26  The  Character,  Deception,  Danger  and  Duty,  of  those. 

the  eye,  when  it  is  turned  to  another  direction.  If  he  ever  afterwards 
reflects  upon  it,  and  indeed  even  while  he  is  immediately  beholdint^  it, 
he  entertains  no  purpose  of  correcting  what  he  observes  amiss.  He 
is  occupied  only  in  amusing  his  fancy,  or  in  exercising  his  under- 
standing and  judgment.  He  perhaps  admires  and  commends  the  skill 
of  the  moral  painter,  praises  his  knowledge  of  the  human  mind  and 
character,  and  his  talent  for  exhibiting  them  in  a  natural  and  striking 
light.  But  the  whole  effect  produced  upon  him  is,  to  give  him  that 
kind  of  interest  and  gratification  which  is  always  felt,  when  we  see  or 
hear  a  representation,  which  is  a  just  copy  of  nature.  It  is  a  mere 
piece  of  entertainment,  which  pleases  him  for  the  present,  but  makes 
no  lasting  impression  on  his  heart,  and  produces  no  change  in  his  life 
and  practice. 

Sometimes,  indeed,  the  effect  which  is  produced  is  a  little  more  pow- 
erful and  permanent.  The  word  of  God  is  a  glass  which  represents 
the  odiousness  and  deformity  of  sin  and  sinners,  in  such  an  aggravated 
and  shocking  light,  that  he  who  fairly  sees  them,  as  they  there  appear, 
and  is  conscious  that  the  likeness  is  his  own,  can  scarcely  avoid  feeling 
some  uneasiness  at  the  view — Just  as  he  who  beholds  his  natural  face 
in  a  glass,  if  he  observe  it  to  be  deformed  or  distorted,  is  displeased 
with  the  appearance,  regrets  that  it  is  such  as  it  is,  and  feels  mortified 
and  perhaps  humbled  at  the  sight.  Thus  the  sinner,  viewing  himself 
in  the  glass  of  God's  law,  may  for  the  time  be  much  dissatisfied  with 
his  appearance,  experience  regret,  and  feel  a  degree  of  shame  and  hu- 
miliation. But  the  event  of  both  cases  is  the  same.  The  man  who  is 
naturally  uncomely,  as  soon  as  his  eye  is  turned  from  the  mirror,  wil- 
lingly forgets  what  he  there  beheld.  The  very  fact  that  the  view  was 
disagreeable,  is  the  reason  why  he  endeavours  to  exclude  it  from  his 
mind  and  memory.  In  the  mean  time,  the  things  which  are  of  ill  ap- 
pearance, being  natural,  sit  easily  upon  him.  He  is  not  sensible  of  the 
aspect  which  they  bear  in  the  view  of  others,  and  is  soon  as  perfectly 
reconciled  to  himself,  as  if  he  were  ever  so  comely,  and  pleasing  in  his 
appearance.  In  like  manner,  he  who  is  morally  deformed,  with  equal 
industry,  and  with  infinitely  more  criminality,  (for  to  rise  superior  to 
natural  blemishes  is  rather  a  virtue  than  a  vice)  endeavours  to  forget 
what  manner  of  man  he  is.  He  turns  the  attention  of  his  mind  from 
his  own  character,  because  it  gives  him  pain  to  behold  it — He  hates  to 
behold  it,  and  is  soon  successful  in  his  endeavours  to  forget  its  odious 
qualities,  and  becomes  as  easy  and  contented,  in  the  possession  of  it, 
as  if  he  did  not  possess,  and  had  never  seen  it. 

Such,  my  hearers,  is  the  representation  of  the  apostle;  and  such  a 
character  your  own  observation,  and  it  is  likely  the  personal  experience 
of  some  of  you,  has  proved  to  be  real.  Let  me  urge  you  to  question 
yourselves  honestly  and  closely  on  this  matter.  Are  not  some  of  you 
who  now  hear  me,  conscious  to  yourselves  that  you  have  exemplified, 
and  are  still  exemplifying,  the  character  which  has  been  exhibited 
before  you?  Have  not  some  of  you,  at  certain  times,  seen  that  what 
has  been  said  in  the  preaching  of  the  word  was  a  fair  and  just  repre- 
sentation of  your  own  fearful  character  and  prospects.^  Have  you  not 
been  sensible  that  you  were  the  very  persons  depicted,  as  being  in 
a  state  truly  and  affectingly  wretched?  And  yet,  have  you  not  gone 
away  from  this  view  of  yourselves  without  any  amendment  ?  Have 
you  not  speedily  forgotten  it,  in  the  business  or  pleasures  of  the 
world;  and  continued  to  possess  the  same  kind  of  character,  with  as 
little  concern,  and  as  little  reformation,  as  if  you  had  not  seen  your 


who  have  heardy  and  have  not  obeyed,  the  Word  of  God,  27 

moral  deformity,  and  your  offensiveness  in  the  eyes  of  a  holy  God?  Let 
your  consciences  speak,  and  bear  witness  to  the  truth.  Be  reminded 
also,  that  those  who  must  plead  guilty  in  this  matter,  to  the  challenges 
of  conscience,  have  probably  been  the  subjects  of  that  deception,  which 
I  have  proposed  to  consider  in  the 

II.  Division  of  this  discourse,  and  which  is  referred  to  by  the  apos- 
tle, in  the  words  "deceiving  your  own  selves." 

The  evident  import  of  this  expression,  from  the  connexion  which  it 
has  with  what  precedes  it,  is,  that  there  are  many  instances  of  persons 
who  seem  to  imagine,  or  who  act  as  if  they  imagined,  that  the  whole 
design  of  hearing  the  word  of  God,  was  answered  merely  by  hearing 
it,  or  by  those  transient  emotions  which  have  just  been  described — 
"Be  ye  doers  of  the  word,  says  the  apostle,  and  not  hearers  only,  de- 
ceiving your  own  selves" — As  if  he  had  said,  "Do  not  content  your- 
selves with  barely  listening  to  what  is  addressed  to  you.  Do  not  de- 
ceive yourselves,  as  too  often  happens,  by  supposing  that  the  whole 
purpose  of  preaching  the  gospel  is  obtained,  if  during  the  time  of  your 
attendance  on  it,  you  make  it  a  point  to  observe  diligently  what  is  said. 
Who  ever  believes  that  this  will  satisfy  the  demands  of  Christian  duty, 
is  grossly  deceived,  and  imposes  on  himself  in  the  most  dangerous 
TOianner." 

There  seem  to  be  several  degrees  of  this  deception;  but  in  one  de- 
gree or  another,  it  is  a  common,  and  almost  universal  fault,  among  no- 
minal Christians.  The  highest  degree  of  this  evil  is  seen  in  those  who 
make  it,  deliberately,  a  part  of  their  creed,  that  going  to  church,  at- 
tending to  what  they  hear,  and  reading  their  bibles,  constitutes  them 
good  Christians,  and  places  them  in  the  safe  path  to  heaven;  though 
their  hearts  are  not  renewed  and  sanctified,  nor  their  lives  altered  and 
reformed.  Unaccountable  as  such  a  conduct  and  creed  may  appear, 
(and  it  is  not  easy  to  conceive  of  any  thing  which  is  more  so)  yet  this 
absurdity  is  not  unfrequently  witnessed  in  real  life.  Whoever  has  paid 
a  careful  attention  to  those,  who,  in  some  form  or  other,  seek  to  sup- 
port a  religious  character,  may  have  seen  men  who  are  even  conscien- 
tiously scrupulous  in  attending  on  almost  every  external  rite  of  reli- 
gion— are  regular  in  reading  and  in  hearing  the  word  of  life — value 
themselves  on  this  character — are  even  displeased  if  the  truth  be  not 
told  them  plainly — or  if  it  be  softened  or  disguised,  so  as  not  to  deal  a 
severe  and  home  reproof  to  the  wicked — and  who  most  commend  the 
preacher,  from  whom  they  receive  the  warmest  and  most  pointed  rebuke 
— and  yet  these  very  men  continue  from  week  to  week,  in  the  undisturb- 
ed practice  of  those  very  sins,  which  they  hear  censured,  and  which  they 
would  be  much  dissatisfied,  if  they  did  not  hear  censured.  They  seem 
to  think  that  the  whole  of  their  obligations  are  discharged  by  hearing 
themselves  reprimanded  and  condemned,  and  by  making  it  a  point  of 
conscience  to  do  so.  What  an  infatuation!  that  men  should  deceive 
themselves  so  egregiously,  as  to  imagine  that  there  should  be  any  other 
end  in  view  in  hearing  truth,  but  to  be  prepared  for  acting;  that  it  is 
of  any  avail  to  receive  reproof,  if  the  reproof  be  never  complied  with. 
Such,  however,  is  the  blindness  of  human  folly — such  is  the  decep- 
tion of  the  human  heart. 

But,  my  hearers,  that  which  I  have  just  described,  although  it  be  the 
most  flagrant,  is,  by  no  means,  the  most  frequent  species  of  the  decep- 
tion which  the  text  contemplates.  When  thus  gross  and  deliberate,  it 
is  usually,  I  think,  connected  with  great  ignorance  of  the  true  princi- 
ples of  all  religion.     But  there  is  a  kind  of  self-deception  which  exists 


28  The  Character,  Deception,  Danger  and  Duty,  of  those 

even  in  enlightened  minds,  in  regard  to  this  subject.  It  exists,  indeed, 
rather  in  the  heart,  than  in  the  understanding — It  proceeds  rather  from 
inattention,  than  deliberation;  more  from  a  reluctance  to  realize  the 
truth,  than  from  an  ignorance  or  perversion  of  it.  How  numerous  are 
the  instances  of  those,  who  are  not  reformed  by  the  reading  or  the 
preaching  of  the  word  of  God,  who  nevertheless  would  be  uneasy,  if  they 
did  not  read  and  hear  it?  Nay,  how  numerous  are  those,  who  seem  to 
be  quite  satisfied  with  themselves,  because  they  have  attended  on  the 
public  administrations  of  religion,  though  they  have  not  corrected  one 
error,  which  in  their  attendance  they  have  heard  reproved?  Proceed- 
ing still  a  little  farther,  how  great  indeed  is  the  number  of  those  who 
give  themselves  much  credit,  at  least,  for  having  gone  to  church,  al- 
though they  return  from  it,  forgetting  entirely  what  manner  of  men 
ihey  are.  Having  accustomed  themselves  to  consider  it  as  a  duty — 
which  no  doubt  it  is — to  go  up  to  the  sanctuary  of  God,  where  social 
acts  of  devotion  are  performed,  and  where  the  word  of  eternal  life  is 
dispensed,  and  prone  to  flatter  themselves  that  the  slightest  regard  to 
duty,  is  the  performance  of  the  whole — they  make  their  very  bodily 
presence  in  a  place  of  public  worship,  answer  all  the  demands  of  God 
and  conscience.  My  dear  hearers,  this  is  not  representing  things 
worse  than  they  are — It  is  a  matter  of  constant  experience,  that  from 
some  cause,  whatever  it  be,  the  greater  part  of  those  who  enjoy  the 
light  of  the  gospel,  go  the  round  of  attending  on  public  worship  with- 
out benefit.  How  are  we  to  account  for  this?  After  assigning  to  other 
causes,  whatever  may  be  their  due,  much,  I  verily  believe,  must  still  be 
charged  to  a  kind  of  vague  and  unexamined  notion,  to  a  practical  self- 
deception,  that  they  are  doing  very  well,  while  they  are  thus  found  in 
the  way  of  duty,  as  they  often  express  it.  They  attend  upon  church 
whenever  it  is  practicable;  they  do  not  allow  themselves  in  the  neglect 
of  it;  they  are  careful  to  listen  to  what  is  said;  they,  sometimes  at  least, 
read  their  bibles;  and  they  think  that  this  is  a  great  part  of  religion. 
"  It  is  better,  certainly,  they  say,  than  not  attending  at  all.  If  we  are 
not  doing  well,  what  is  to  become  of  those  who  show  no  regard  to  reli- 
gion?" Far  be  from  me,  my  hearers,  the  invidious  and  unchristian 
office  of  representing  men  in  a  character  which  they  do  not  deserve. 
Far  be  from  me  a  wish  to  deprive  any  one  of  the  praise  of  well  doing, 
so  far  as  he  merits  it.  Were  it  a  safe  expression,  I  would  be  willing 
to  say,  that  they  who  read  and  hear  the  word  of  (iod,  act  better  than 
they  who  do  not.  I  do  say,  that  it  manifests  a  less  decided  hostility  to 
the  gospel — that  it  is  treating  it  with  more  respect  and  courtesy,  to 
only  listen  to  its  admonitions,  than  entirely  to  neglect  and  despise 
them.  Those  who  hear,  keep  themselves  within  the  reach  of  benefit 
and  advantage.  But  what  consolation,  1  pray  you,  will  it  afford  you  at 
the  last,  to  have  constantly  heard  the  sound  of  the  gospel,  if  you  have 
never  obeyed  it?  What  benefit  to  have  kept  within  the  reach  of  mercy, 
if  you  have  never  obtained  mercy?  Beside,  you  ought  to  recollect,  that 
by  hearing  the  gospel,  your  duty  is  constantly  set  before  you;  and  that 
your  final  Judge  has  declared,  that  "  the  servant  who  knew  his  Lord's 
will  and  did  it  not,  shall  be  beaten  with  many  stripes."  Hence  I  inti- 
mated that  it  is  not  safe,  to  say  that  one  ruinous  course  is  better  than 
another.  One  may  not  be  as  bad  as  another;  because  not  involving  so 
great  an  enormity  of  guilt,  and  because  the  prospect  of  a  change  may 
not  be  so  utterly  hopeless.  But  1  hold  all  comparisons  of  this  kind  to 
be  improper,  because  th'ey  commonly  lead  to  dangerous  practical  con- 
sequences.    Do  but  suffer  the  mind  to  esteem  itself  less  guilty  than 


who  have  heard,  and  have  not  obeyed,  the  Word  of  God.         £9 

something  with  which  it  compares  itself,  and  self-love  will  be  likely 
soon  to  persuade  it,  that  it  is  not  far  from  being  innocent,  or  even  meri- 
torious. Tell  an  unsanctitied  man  that  he  is  much  more  excusable,  or 
in  a  much  safer  state  than  another,  and  there  is  reason  to  apprehend 
that  he  will  soon  persuade  himself  that  he  is  in  no  danger  at  all.  This 
is  the  very  root  of  the  evil  which  I  am  seeking  to  eradicate.  Those 
who  show  some  external  respect  to  divine  institutions,  frequently  grow 
into  a  kind  of  practical  belief  that  they  are  entirely  safe.  Not  careful, 
and  not  willing,  because  secretly  afraid,  to  examine  whether  they  have 
received  any  saving  benefit  from  the  dispensation  of  revealed  truth,  they 
come,  under  the  influence  of  self-flattery  and  self-love,  to  take  the  form 
of  duty  for  the  substance,  the  means  of  grace  for  the  thing  itself.  Not 
indeed  that  they  do  deliberately  indulge  this  opinion;  but  they  act  and 
are  as  easy  as  if  they  did. 

"What  then — an  offended  objector  may  say — what  are  the  demands 
of  religion?  Shall  we  never  be  able  to  act  in  a  manner  that  will  ex- 
empt us  from  censure.^  Shall  we  never  adopt  a  line  of  conduct  that 
vrill  satisfy  the  advocates  of  religion.^"  Yes,  my  friends,  you  shall  sa- 
tisfy us  completely,  when  you  are  obedient  to  the  precept  of  the  textj 
when  you  become  "doers  of  the  word,  and  not  hearers  only." 

III.  This  is  the  last,  the  important  point,  which — "  whether  you  will 
hear,  or  whether  you  will  forbear"— I  must  endeavour  to  inculcate.  The 
reasonableness  of  the  injunction  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  here  promulged  by 
the  apostle  James,  needs  not  be  shown  by  any  extended  train  of  argu- 
ment or  illustration.  "Be  ye  doers  of  the  word  and  not  hearers  only," 
is  a  command  as  obviously  consonant  to  reason,  as  that  means  are  use- 
less, if  they  fail  of  the  end  for  which  alone  they  are  employed.  Hear- 
ing is  but  the  means  of  action.  Instruction  is  ever  in  order  to  practice 
— And  why,  in  religion,  would  you  institute  a  rule,  or  be  chargeable 
with  a  procedure,  which  you  would  be  ashamed  to  apply  to  any  other 
subject,  or  follow  out  in  any  other  business.^  Let  me  then  urge  on  the 
heart  and  conscience  of  all  who  hear  me,  a  duty,  the  obligation  of 
which  no  one  can  deny.  Let  me  entreat  you  to  guard  carefully  against 
the  evils  which  were  exposed  in  the  beginning  of  this  address.  Be- 
ware that  the  views  which  religion  gives  you  of  yourselves  do  not 
pass  from  your  minds,  like  an  image  from  the  eye.  Beware  that  you 
do  not  consider  religious  instruction  and  discourse,  merely  in  the  light 
of  amusement  or  entertainment,  or  as  a  subject  only  for  speculation  or 
criticism.  Beware  that  you  are  not  more  attentive  to  please  your  fancy, 
or  even  to  improve  your  knowledge,  than  to  mend  your  hearts.  When 
you  hear  a  lively  description  of  the  evil  of  sin,  and  of  the  depravity  of 
the  human  heart,  remember,  I  solemnly  admonish  you,  that  you — you 
and  I— are  the  very  persons  who  are  chargeable  with  this  evil,  and  la- 
bouring under  this  depravity.  Rememl)er  that  we  are  the  men  who  must 
be  humbled  into  the  very  dust  under  a  sense  of  our  guilt — That  we  are 
the  parties  who  must  have  the  pardon  of  this  sin,  and  the  correction  of 
this  depravity,  by  the  grace  of  God  in  our  hearts,  and  have  it  speedily, 
or  incur  that  awful  punishment  which  is  its  due.  Let  every  hearer 
examine,  as  under  the  eye  of  the  heart-searching  God,  how  these  mat- 
ters stand  with  himself.  Let  every  hearer  avoid  distributing  to  others 
what  belongs  to  himself;  and  to  himself  let  him  take  it.  Let  him  con- 
sider all  that  is  said  as  aimed  at  the  heart  and  practice.  When  you 
find  yourselves  addressed,  let  the  address  enter  into  your  very  souls, 
and  be  as  it  were  a  rule  to  measure  your  desert,  and  a  faithful  monitor 
to  tell  you  what  must  be  amended.    Let  every  sentence  be  as  an  index, 


so  Tlie  Character,  Deception,  Danger  and  Duty,  of  those 

pointing  to  some  duty,  or  some  consideration,  and  saying — "  this  is  the 
duty  "which  you  are  now  to  perform,  this  is  the  consideration  which 
you  are  now  to  regard.  These  are  the  things  which  you  are  not  only 
to  hear  but  to  do^  these  are  the  things  which  you  are  to  do,  not  at  ano- 
ther time,  but  the  present;  these  are  the  things  which  you  must  not  let 
depart  from  your  minds,  till  you  have  performed  them;  these  are  the 
things  for  which  you  are  to  account,  before  the  Judge  of  quick  and 
dead;  these  are  the  things  which  must  be  done,  if  you  would  have  any 
rational  ground  to  expect  the  salvation  of  your  souls." 

To  urge  yourselves  to  the  duty  thus  laid  before  you,  think  seriously, 
how  great  is  the  sin  of  forgetfulness  and  neglect,  which  is  so  common; 
and  how  high  the  account  of  many  of  you  must  already  have  risen, 
from  this  circumstance.  For  thus  saith  the  Lord — "  Because  I  have 
called  and  ye  refused;  I  have  stretched  out  my  hand  and  no  man  re- 
garded: But  ye  have  set  at  nought  all  my  counsel,  and  would  none  of 
my  reproof:  1  also  will  laugh  at  your  calamity;  I  will  mock  when  your 
fear  cometh.  When  your  fear  cometh  as  desolation  and  your  destruc- 
tion Cometh  as  a  whirlwind;  when  distress  and  anguish  cometh  upon 
you:  Then  shall  they  call  upon  me,  but  I  will  not  answer;  they  shall 
seek  me  early  but  they  shall  not  find  me:  For  that  they  hated  know- 
ledge, and  did  not  choose  the  fear  of  the  Lord:  They  would  none  of 
my  counsel;  they  despised  all  my  reproof:  Therefore  shall  they  eat  of 
the  fruit  of  their  own  way,  and  be  filled  with  their  own  devices."  May 
these,  my  beloved  hearers — may  these  be  the  consequences  that  may 
follow  from  hearing  the  word  of  God  without  doing  it?  May  a  perse- 
verance in  this  wicked  folly  bring  you  to  a  time  when  you  may  call 
with  ineffectual  importunity?  May  it  bring  you  to  a  time  when  the  day 
of  doing  shall  be  past  forever?  Most  assuredly  it  may;  for  this  is  the 
genuine  spirit  of  the  representation  you  have  now  heard  from  the  ora- 
cles of  God.  You  may  be  left  to  judicial  hardness  of  heart,  till,  on  the 
near  approach  of  your  final  doom,  your  eyes  may  be  opened  on  all  the 
horrors  of  your  situation;  and  your  cries  for  mercy  may  be  too  late  to 
avail  for  yourselves,  and  only  serve  as  an  awful  warning  to  others,  not 
to  follow  in  the  path  which  leads  to  hopeless  perdition. 

Do  not  flatter  yourselves,  I  most  earnestly  pray  you,  that  your  course 
cannot  possibly  lead  to  the  tremendous  termination  now  presented  to 
your  view,  because  your  sins,  as  you  think,  are  only  of  the  omissive 
kind — "  You  are  not,  you  will  perhaps  say — you  never  have  been,  infidel 
blasphemers;  you  have  never  spoken  against  or  rejected  the  gospel  of 
Christ.  Nay,  you  have  honoured  the  institutions  of  religion;  you  have 
pleaded  for  their  usefulness  and  importance;  you  have  attended  care- 
fully on  the  preaching  of  the  word;  and  all  that  can  be  said  is,  that  you 
have  not  yielded  your  hearts  and  your  lives  to  its  spiritual  and  practical 
requirements."  I  will  take  you  then  on  the  ground  of  your  own  choos- 
ing. I  will  say  nothing  of  the  ten  thousand  actual  transgressions  of  God's 
holy  law;  from  which  you  know  that  your  lives  and  hearts  have  not 
been  free.  I  will  speak  of  nothing  but  of  your  refusal  to  obey  the  sin- 
gle command  of  Christ — his  command,  to  believe  in  him  with  all  the 
heart  to  the  saving  of  your  souls,  with  its  corresponding  course  of  ac- 
tion. Now  I  put  it  to  your  consciences — is  it  a  light  matter  to  neglect 
a  salvation  provided  at  the  expense  of  the  ineffable  agonies,  the  incon- 
ceivable sufferings,  the  unutterably  awful  death,  of  the  Son  of  God?  Is 
there  no  aggravation  in  the  guilt  of  refusing  to  consult  your  own  eter- 
nal well  being? — in  refusing  the  felicities  of  heaven,  and  obstinately 
pursuing  the  path  that  leads  to  hell?     Is  eternal  self-destruction,  when 


who  have  heavdy  and  have  not  obeyed,  the  Word  of  God.  SI 

it  is  the  known  consequence  of  neglect,  no  crime?  My  interrogatives 
answer  themselves  justly;  and  your  consciences,  if  not  utterly  callous, 
must  answer  them;  and  the  gospel  answers  them  most  awfully.  Unbelief 
— a  negative  sin — is,  by  special  designation  and  emphasis,  the  damning 
sin  of  the  gospel.  And  if  you  will  look  through  the  whole  gospel — the 
mild  gospel  of  Jesus  Christ — you  will  find  that  the  most  frequent  and 
alarming  denunciations  are  pronounced  against  mere  omissions.  Its 
divine  author  knew  that  there  would  be  thousands,  and  ten  thousands, 
of  the  hearers  of  the  gospel,  who  would  lose  their  souls  by  neglect, 
whose  consciences  might  be  shocked  by  the  commission  of  an  acknow- 
ledged and  flagitious  crime;  and  who  nevertheless  would  inake  no  ac- 
count of  omitted  duties,  and  who  would  even  esteem  themselves  good 
Christians,  because  they  were  not  reproachful  sinners.  This  therefore 
was  the  pass  to  destruction,  which  the  Holy  Ghost  was  specially  careful 
to  guard,  and  to  set  up  a  beacon  of  warning  at  its  very  entrance.  Hence 
we  find  the  denunciation  or  threatening,  again  and  again  pronounced — 
not  against  the  tree  that  bore  bad  fruit,  but  against  the  tree  that  bore 
NO  fruit;  not  against  the  lamp  that  had  bad  oil,  but  against  the  lamp  that 
had  NO  oil;  not  against  the  servant  who  wasted  his  Lord's  talent,  but 
against  the  servant  who  made  no  profit  of  his  talent.  Hence  also  the 
appeal  of  the  apostle,  in  a  question  too  big  with  meaning  to  be  answered 
in  words — "How  shall  we  escape,  if  we  neglect  so  great  salvation?" 
Hence,  in  fine,  the  last  solemn  sentence,  in  the  day  of  final  retribution, 
is  represented  by  our  Saviour  himself,  as  turning  wholly  on  neglected 
duties — not  a  single  positive  act  of  transgression  is  contained  in  the 
whole  award;  it  is  filled  up  with  charges  of  omissions — "  I  was  an 
hungered,  and  ye  gave  me  7io  meat;  I  was  thirsty,  and  ye  gave  me  no 
drink;  I  was  a  stranger,  and  ye  took  me  not  in;  naked  and  ye  clothed 
me  not^  sick  and  in  prison,  and  ye  visited  me  not."  And  what,  my 
dear  hearers,  would  be  the  sentence  that  might  be  formed  on  this  plan, 
in  regard  to  your  improvement  of  the  word  of  life.^ — How  would  it  run, 
if  the  Judge  should  now  erect  his  tribunal  in  this  church,  and  call  you 
to  his  bar?  Ah!  to  how  many  would  it  be  said — Ye  heardy  but  ye  did 
not.  Ye  understood,  but  ye  did  not  practice.  You  saw  yourselves  to  be 
guilty,  but  you  did  not  amend.  You  viewed  yourselves  as  endangered, 
but  you  did  not  seek  for  safety.  You  were  instructed  in  your  duty,  but 
you  would  not  perform  it.  You  heard  sermons,  but  you  did  not  im- 
prove them.  You  attended  the  worship  of  God,  but  you  were  not  bene- 
fited. You  were  entreated  to  consider  your  ways,  but  you  would  not 
consider.  You  were  exhorted  to  embrace  the  Saviour,  but  you  would 
710/  yield  to  the  exhortation.  You  were  enjoined  immediately  to  begin 
the  work  of  reformation,  but  you  would  not  regard  the  injunction.  You 
were  faithfully  told  that  you  were  in  danger  of  perishing,  but  you  would 
not  credit  it.  You  were  solemnly  admonished  that  you  would  never 
find  a  more  favourable  opportunity  than  that  which  existed,  to  turn 
unto  God,  but  you  did  not  heed  it.  Since,  therefore,  you  have  been 
instructed,  and  urged,  and  entreated,  and  long  forborne  with,  and  did 

not  to  the    last   believe  and   repent — therefore   "depart" O  most 

merciful  Saviour!  let  not  this  sentence  fall  on  any  whom  I  now  ad- 
dress. Help  me,  Lord,  so  to  warn  them,  and  do  thou  so  bless  the  warn- 
ing, that  they  may  never  hear  thee  say  to  them,  "Depart  ye  cursed  into 
everlasting  fire,  prepared  for  the  devil  and  his  angels." 

But  I  tell  you,  delaying  and  disregarding  sinners — in  very  faithful- 
ness to  your  souls  and  to  my  own,  I  tell  you — the  awful  sentence  you 
have  just  heard,  will  go  forth  against  you,  in  the  judgment  of  the 


32  The  Character,  Deception,  Danger  and  Ditty,  Sfc. 

great  day,  if  you  continue  to  hear  the  word  of  God,  and  do  it  not. 
Most  solemnly,  therefore,  I  now  warn  you  of  your  danger,  and  counsel 
you  to  beware.  In  the  name  of  Him  who  will  judge  both  you  and  me, 
I  charge  you  to  trifle  no  longer.  Remember  and  write  it  on  your 
hearts,  that  hearing  is  in  order  to  doing.  Remember  that  the  most  at- 
tentive and  frequent  hearing  will  avail  you  nothing,  unless  you  become 
doers  of  the  word.  Remember  that  though  you  are  entertained  in 
hearing,  though  you  are  advocates  for  hearing,  though  you  commend 
the  word  that  you  hear,  though  you  admire  and  are  delighted  with  the 
word  preached,  if  you  are  not  doers  of  that  word,  it  shall  profit  you 
nothing.  Remember  that  though  you  were  to  hear  a  sermon  every 
day;  though  an  angel  from  heaven  were  the  preacher,  and  the  elo- 
quence of  Michael  were  the  strain  in  which  you  were  addressed;  yet  if 
you  were  not  doers  of  the  word,  it  would  profit  you  nothing.  Nothing, 
nothing  but  doing  the  will  of  God,  will  fulfil  your  obligations,  and  end  in 
the  salvation  of  your  souls. 

All  that  remains  for  me  then,  is  once  more  to  lay  before  you  the  sum 
of  your  duty,  and  obtest  you,  while  you  feel  the  force  of  this  subject — 
if  you  do  in  any  measure  feel  it — to  be  not  only  the  hearers  but  the  do- 
ers of  God's  word.  I  lay  before  you  therefore,  that  it  is  your  immediate 
duty  to  humble  yourselves  deeply  in  the  sight  of  God,  on  account  of 
your  depravity,  and  your  innumerable  actual  sins;  to  turn,  with  un- 
feigned repentance  and  brokenness  of  heart,  unto  God;  to  cast  your- 
selves on  his  sovereign  mercy,  abounding  through  the  atoning  sacrifice 
and  infinite  merits  of  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ;  and  to  devote  yourselves, 
henceforth,  entirely  to  his  service.  This  is  the  sum  of  your  duty,  and 
this  is  the  word  which  now  you  hear — Look  that  ye  be  doers  of  this 
word,  and  not  hearers  only.  Do  you  ask  me  for  some  detail.''  Well 
then,  I  lay  before  you,  that  it  is  your  immediate  duty  to  pray  earnestly, 
and  perseveringly  lo  God,  that  he  would  give  you  a  new  heart,  and 
never  to  be  satisfied  till  this  prayer  be  granted.  You  are  now  the  hear- 
ers of  this  word:  by  the  worth  of  your  souls  I  entreat  you  to  be  the 
doers  also.  I  lay  before  you,  that  it  is  your  immediate  and  constant 
duty,  to  cultivate  by  watchfulness  and  prayer,  a  humble,  believing,  and 
holy  temper  of  mind,  constantly  imploring,  and  constantly  depending 
on  the  divine  aid,  to  render  you  successful.  This  is  the  word  which 
now  sounds  in  your  ears;  and  by  the  value  of  heaven,  and  the  fear  of 
hell,  I  affectionately  and  importunately  urge  you  to  be  the  doers,  the 
immediate  doers,  of  what  you  hear — With  these  solemn  monitions,  en- 
treaties, and  appeals,  I  close  my  address;  and  I  do  it  under  all  but  an 
overwhelming  recollection,  that  in  the  day  of  dread  decision,  when  I 
shall  stand  to  be  judged  with  you — I  for  my  fidelity  in  warning  you, 
and  you  for  the  manner  in  which  you  regard  the  warning — it  will  ap- 
pear, who  of  you  have  heard  to  the  saving  of  your  souls;  and  who, 
having  finally  refused  to  do  what  they  hear,  shall  be  adjudged  to  the 
prison  of  eternal  despair. 


The  Incalculable  Worth  of  the  Soul 


SERMOir. 

THE  INCALCULABLE  WORTH  OF  THE  SOUL. 

Matt.  xvi.  20. — "  For  what  is  a  man  profited  if  he  shall  gain  the  whole  world  and  lose 
his  own  soul.''  or  what  shall  a  man  give  in  exchange  for  his  soul.-"' 

These  words  were  addressed  by  our  Saviour  to  his  disciples,  as  an 
admonition  against  the  folly  of  forsaking  him,  on  account  of  any  dan- 
ger or  difficulty  which  an  adherence  to  his  cause  might  induce.  He 
had  reminded  them  that  to  save,  or  to  prolong  their  mortal  life,  by 
apostatizing  from  him,  would  prove  in  the  event  the  greatest  loss,  as 
it  would  preclude  them  from  an  eternal  life  beyond  the  grave:  And 
that,  on  the  other  hand,  if  by  an  inflexible  attachment  to  him,  they 
should  subject  themselves  to  death  itself,  their  gain  would  be  im- 
mense; as  the  death  of  the  body  would  immediately  introduce  them  to 
a  happy  and  unending  existence  in  heaven,  as  the  reward  of  their  fide- 
lity. Having  clearly  held  forth  these  important  ideas  in  the  context, 
he  gives  them,  in  the  words  on  which  I  discourse,  a  weighty  and  pow- 
erful enforcement,  by  putting  two  questions,  the  answers  to  which  are 
obvious,  and  yet  so  overwhelming  as  to  forbid  expression — As  if  he  had 
said — "  What  will  it  profit  a  man  though  he  gain  the  whole  world,  if 
he  lose  his  soul  in  getting  it?  Or  if  he  barter  away  his  soul,  what  will 
he  give  in  exchange  for  it,  that  it  may  be  restored  to  him  again?" 

In  discoursing  on  these  interrogatories  of  our  Saviour,  a  real  difficulty 
arises,  from  the  circumstance  that  they  contain  truth  so  plain  as  almost  to 
preclude  illustration,  and  so  important  as  to  render  enforcement  seem- 
ingly superfluous,  if  not  disadvantageous.  This,  perhaps,  would  truly  be 
the  case,  if  lamentable  experience  did  not  teach  us,  that  our  meditations 
are  apt  to  be  desultory,  wandering,  slight  and  superficial,  in  regard 
even  to  the  most  interesting  topics  of  a  spiritual  kind,  and  there- 
fore have  much  need  of  something  to  fix  and  deepen  them.  The 
preaching  of  the  word  is  the  instituted  ordinance  by  which  this  effect 
is  usually  produced,  even  when  that  which  is  delivered  is  neither  novel 
as  to  the  matter  discussed,  nor  striking  as  to  the  form  in  which  it  is 
presented.  Let  me  then  entreat  you  to  go  along  with  me  into  a  train 
of  serious  thinking,  on  the  familiar  but  important  truths  which  the 
passage  before  us  suggests — lifting  up  your  souls  to  God  for  the  aids 
of  his  grace,  that  our  meditations  may  be  richly  blessed  to  our  spiritual 
edification — "  What  shall  it  profit  a  man,  if  he  shall  gain  the  whole 
world  and  lose  his  own  soul?  or  what  shall  a  man  give  in  exchange  for 
his  soul?" 

It  is  the  evident  intention  of  these  solemn  questions,  to  call  our 
attention  to  a  comparison  between  the  value  of  the  soul,  and  that  of  any 
other  possession  or  consideration,  for  which  it  may  be  excl\anged  or 
lost;  and  to  induce  us  to  make  and  act  upon  a  just  view  and  estimate  of 
this  great  concern.  I  see  no  method  of  treating  them,  therefore,  more 
proper  than  to  consider  dictinctly — 

I.  The  value  of  the  soul:  Or  to  show  rather,  that  it  is  altogether 
invaluable,  and  incapable  of  having  an  adequate  price  set  upon  it. 

II.  That  it  must,  of  course,  be  unspeakable  folly  to  exchange  it  for 
any  consideration  or  possession  whatsoever,  on  account  of  which  it 
may  be  sacrificed:  And 

III.  To  apply  and  improve  the  subject. 

On  each  of  these  points  I  shall  detain  you  but  a  few  minutes;  but 
O!  that  they  may  be  minutes  of  close  and  solemn  attention. 
E 


54  The  Incalculable  f forth  of  the  SouL 

1.  We  are  to  consider  the  value  of  the  soul:  Or  to  show,  rather, 
that  it  is  altogether  invaluable. 

We  must  begin  here  with  an  idea  hinted  at  in  the  text,  and  which  is 
distinctly  staled  by  one  of  the  evangelists  by  whom  it  is  recorded.  The 
idea  is,  that  the  soul  of  man  is  himself.^  and  consequently  that  nothing 
else  can  be  equally  precious  to  its  possessor,  however  it  may  be  esti- 
mated by  others,  or  whatever  may  be  its  value  in  itself.  The  word 
which  is  here  rendered  soul,  is  in  the  original  the  same  which,  in  the 
preceding  verses,  is  rendered  life;  and  it  appears  that  the  text,  in  this 
view,  had  become  proverbial  among  the  Jews.  When  they  wished  to 
express  the  palpable  and  gross  absurdity  of  giving,  as  the  price  of  any 
proposed  good,  the  very  capacity  of  possessing  and  enjoying  it,  they 
said — "  W^hat  will  it  profit  a  man  to  gain  the  whole  world  by  the  loss 
of  his  life?"  Our  Lord,  probably  alluding  to  this  proverb,  and  using 
the  word  that  signified  life  to  denote  the  sold,  or  the  principle  of  life 
itself,  which  the  language  in  which  he  spoke  fully  allowed,  gave  a  spi- 
ritual turn  and  application  to  the  adage,  and  accommodated  it  to  his 
purpose  with  great  energy  and  beauty.  He  urged  them,  and  he  urges 
us,  to  think  of  the  indescribable  folly  of  those,  who  for  the  sake  of 
grasping  at  the  fleeting  shadow  of  a  world,  subject  themselves  by  the 
very  act  to  the  total  perdition  of  their  souls — of  souls  which,  being  once 
lost,  the  losers  can  neither  enjoy  the  object  for  which  they  gave  them, 
nor  recall  the  act  by  which  they  bartered  them  away.  If  it  would  be, 
as  I  am  sure  you  would  think  it,  a  trifling  with  your  understandings, 
to  enter  into  a  formal  argument  to  prove  that  a  man  must  be  literally 
beside  himself,  who  should  deliberately  sell  his  soul,  though  he  actu- 
ally obtained  the  whole  world  in  stipulating  for  its  price — think,  then,  I 
beseech  you,  how  severe  is  the  censure  which  this  very  circumstance  in- 
flicts on  the  greater  part  of  mankind,  who  are  actually  and  constantly 
doing  a  thing,  which  is  too  man«ifestly  and  awfully  absurd  to  justify  ar- 
gument or  admit  of  illustration.  The  fact,  alas!  is  incapable  of  de- 
nial— Indeed  I  can  scarcely  think  without  horror,  on  the  probability 
that  many  of  those  who  now  hear  me,  are  concerned  in  this  shocking 
traflic  of  giving  tlie^nselves  for  the  offers  of  the  world — Giving  their 
souls  to  the  world,  and  therefore  giving  XhQvafor  it;  so  that  if  this  co- 
venant with  death  be  not  speedily  broken,  final,  irretrievable  perdition, 
must  be  the  consequence.  For  "  the  fiiendship  of  the  world  is  enmity 
with  God;  whosoever  therefore  will  be  the  friend  of  the  world  is  the 
enemy  of  God." 

2.  The  incalculable  worth  of  the  soul  appears  from  the  price  which 
was  paid  for  its  redemption. 

Is  it  not  probable,  brethren,  that  this  consideration  was  in  the  view 
of  the  Saviour,  when  he  pronounced  the  text?  Being  himself  the  Cre- 
ator of  the  world,  and  the  Redeemer  of  the  soul,  he  knew  the  value  of 
both — He  knew  that  the  v/orld  was  made  by  a  word;  but  that  to  save 
the  human  soul  it  behooved  him  to  come  from  heaven  to  earth,  and  to 
lay  down  his  life  as  a  ransom  ibr  it.  \>rily  this  is  a  thought  that  de- 
serves to  be  most  seriously  pondered  by  us.  It  is  indeed  true,  that 
the  exhibition  of  the  divine  glory  before  the  whole  intelligent  creation, 
is  the  ultimate  purpose  of  the  Deity  in  all  his  works.  But  this  cir- 
cumstance takes  nothing  from  any  representation  which  can  be  made 
of  the  importance  of  man's  redemption,  as  it  is  argued  from  the  me- 
thod in  which  it  was  effected — The  circumstance  rather  adds  weight 
to  the  argument.  It  shows  that  the  salvation  of  a  number  of  our  lost 
race,  was  an  event  so  intimately  and  essentially  connected  with   the 


TJie  Incalculable  Worth  of  the  SouL  35 

highest  of  all  possible  objects,  the  glory  of  God,  that  infinite  wisdom 
determined  to  provide  for  it,  even  at  all  that  amazing  expense  which 
the  attainment  of  it  required,  a.nd  which  it  actually  cost.  Remember 
then,  dear  brethren,  that  "  We  were  not  redeemed  with  corruptible 
things,  as  silver  and  gold — but  with  the  precious  blood  of  Christ." 
Consider  whatever  could  be  done  or  endured  by  the  eternal  Son  of  God, 
"  the  brightness  of  his  Father's  glory  and  the  express  image  of  his 
person,"  as  a  matter  of  price  or  worth;  and  then  search  your  imagi- 
nations for  another  object  of  equal  value.  Consider  the  humiliation  of 
such  a  great  and  glorious  being,  his  assuming  "  the  form  of  a  servant, 
and  becoming  a  man  of  sorrows  and  acquainted  with  grief" — Consi- 
der him  as  persecuted,  despised,  insulted,  and  derided,  while  "found 
in  the  likeness  of  sinful  flesh" — Consider  him  as  having  heaven,  earth 
and  hell  set  against  him;  so  that  in  his  agonizing  conflict  "  he  sweat 
great  drops  of  blood  falling  down  to  the  ground;  and  exclaiming  on 
the  cross,  "  My  God,  my  God,  why  hast  thou  forsaken  me?" — Consi- 
der him,  at  last,  as  dying  with  the  vilest  malefactors,  and  himself  re- 
presented as  the  greatest  of  all — While  you  consider  these  things,  im.a- 
gine  that  you  were  ignorant  of  the  plan  of  redemption,  and  were  called 
on  to  point  out  an  object,  or  a  purpose,  worthy  to  be  achieved  by  such  a 
treatment  of  the  Son  of  God — Would  you  be  able  to  name  it?  Would 
you  dare  to  say  that  you  judged  it  proper  that  the  Author  of  all  things 
should  give  himself  in  this  manner  for  any  of  his  works,  or  for  all  of 
them  collectively?  You  would  not — you  ought  not.  Yet  oh!  the  sove- 
reign mercy  and  compassion  of  the  Redeemer! — Having  the  right 
to  do  it,  he  has — may  I  so  express  it! — outbidden  all  our  estimates, 
hopes  and  expectations,  and  set  this  very  price  en  the  human  soul. 
Though  he  was  himself  to  pay  the  ransom,  he  set  it  thus  high,  and  he 
discharged  it.  He  actually  gave  himself  to  all  the  dreadful  sufferings 
we  have  contemplated,  that  our  immortal  spirits  might  not  be  lost.  A 
judge  perfectly  qualified  and  competent,  has  thus  fixed  the  value  of  our 
souls,  at  a  higher  mark  than  our  own  conceptions,  when  challenged  to 
the  effort,  could  otherwise  have  reached.  Infinitely,  therefore,  do  we 
undervalue  them,  when  we  give  them  for  any  created  object — Nay,  the 
whole  m.aterial  creation  is  but  the  dust  of  the  balance,  when  brought 
into  this  competition:  For  the  Creator  hath  given  himself  for  us — It  is 
the  language  of  Scripture — "  He  gave  himself  for  us,  that  he  might 
redeem  us  from  all  iniquity,  and  purify  unto  himself  a  peculiar  people 
zealous  of  good  works." 

3.  The  inestimable  worth  of  the  soul  appears  also,  from  its  immor- 
tal nature,  and  the  happiness  or  misery  of  which  it  must  be  the  subject 
throughout  eternity.  To  this  consideration  there  has  been  necessarily 
an  implied  reference  in  the  former  particulars,  but  as  the  weight  of 
the  text  rests  upon  it,  let  it  now  command  our  direct  and  undivided 
attention. 

That  thinking  principle,  my  brethren,  by  which  you  now  attend  to 
this  subject, — that  power  within  you,  which  enables  you  to  apprehend, 
reason  and  judge;  which  makes  you  the  subjects  of  joy  and  sorrow,  of 
hope  and  fear,  of  hatred  and  love,  of  every  emotion,  affection  or  pas- 
sion which  you  feel; — that  thinking  principle,  in  every  individual  who 
hears  me,  will  live  and  act  for  ever.  Never,  never,  will  it  cease  to 
operate.  You  cannot  look  forward  to  the  period  when  it  will  be  no 
more — Make  the  attempt.  Task  your  imagination  to  the  utmost,  and 
fix  a  point  as  far  off*  as  you  can  in  the  endless  region  of  futurity. 
Over  the  whole  space  which  divides  the  present  moment  from  that  dis- 


36  The  Jncalculahle  Wm-th  of  the  SouL 

tant  point,  each  of  our  souls  will  actually  pass.  There  we  shall  at 
length  arrive,  and  there  eternity  will  still  be  all  before  us.  Then  will 
this  conscious  spirit  which  each  of  us  now  feels  within  him,  be  even 
more  vigorous  and  active  than  at  present.  We  cannot  extinguish  it, 
though  we  were  desirous  of  its  annihilation.  It  cannot  terminate  its 
own  existence,  and  no  other  creature  can  destroy  it.  God  formed  it 
for  immortality,  and  as  long  as  God  himself  exists,  so  long  shall  you 
and  I,  my  hearers,  continue  our  existence. 

But  this  is  not  all.  Our  existence  is  not  only  to  remain,  but  we  are, 
very  soon,  to  change  the  mode  of  it,  in  a  very  interesting  manner.  We 
are  here  placed  in  a  kind  of  mixed  state.  We  experience  alternate  re- 
turns of  pleasure  and  pain,  and  yet  we  experience  neither  in  the  high- 
est degree.  But  when  we  pass — as  pass  we  speedily  must — the  bounds 
of  this  mortal  life,  pleasure  and  pain,  happiness  and  misery,  will  be 
no  longer  mingled  together.  They  will  be  entirely  separated,  and  in 
each  of  our  souls  there  will  be  nothing  but  happiness,  or  nothing  but 
misery,  to  all  eternity — Nay,  it  is  probable  that  unmingled  happiness, 
or  unmingled  misery,  will  increase  upon  us,  in  an  endless  progression. 
The  powers  of  the  human  mind  have  a  kind  of  expansive  property — 
They  gradually  grow  more  and  more  capable  of  taking  in  a  larger  por- 
tion of  any  thing  of  which  they  are  susceptible.  This  property,  there 
is  reason  to  believe  from  analogy,  will  continue  throughout  the  whole 
of  our  existence.  If,  therefore,  we  fall  into  condemnation,  increasing 
anguish  may  come  upon  us  without  end.  We  may  sink,  and  sink,  and 
sink,  from  one  degree  of  torment  to  another,  through  all  the  depths  of 
unfathomable  wo.  The  enlarged  spirit  may  be  still  filling  up  with  an- 
guish, and  still  expanding  to  receive  a  greater  measure — Whose  soul 
does  not  turn  sick  with  horror  at  this  prospect!  Yet  oh!  remember, 
the  prospect  will  not  only  be  realized,  but  exceeded,  by  every  one  who 
loses  his  soul. 

On  the  other  hand,  he  who  is  saved,  may  rise  perpetually  in  the 
scale  of  happiness  and  glory.  His  faculties  may  constantly  grow 
larger,  by  partaking  of  the  banquets  of  heavenly  bliss,  and  drinking 
to  the  full  of  "  the  waters  of  life."  To  his  augmented,  and  perpetu- 
ally increasing  powers,  the  infinity  of  the  Deity,  and  the  boundless  ex- 
tent and  variety  of  his  works  and  ways,  will  still  afford  scope,  and  still 
furnish  objects  new  and  delightful;  so  that  the  point  at  which  Gabriel 
now  stands  may,  perhaps,  my  Christian  brethren,  be  reached  by  you 
— Nay,  without  this  supposition,  it  may  be  shown,  that,  estimating  hap- 
piness by  quantity,  through  one  of  your  souls  a  greater  measure  of 
happiness  may  pass,  than  all  the  glorified  saints  and  angels  have  yet 
enjoyed.  For  this  sum  we  know  is  finite,  and  in  eternity  you  may  ex- 
haust it  all,  and  be  still  but  entering  on  the  immeasurable  bliss  which 
there  awaits  you.  How  do  these  ideas  animate  and  swell  the  soul ! 
The  good  seems  too  great  to  be  real;  and  we  are  ready  to  ask  ourselves 
whether  it  be  a  dream  or  a  reality.  A  reality  it  is,  my  brethren,  not 
to  be  questioned  more  than  your  existence — A  reality  which  every 
child  of  God  who  now  hears  me,  shall  begin  to  experience  for  him- 
self, in  a  very  short  space. 

Attend,  then,  to  the  point,  which,  from  this  representation  you  are 
called  to  consider — It  is,  whether  you  can  think  of  any  thing  that 
should  induce  you  to  sacrifice  all  the  happiness,  and  incur  all  the  mi- 
sery, of  which  you  have  just  heard?  Can  you  think  of  any  thing  so 
desirable  as  the  one,  and  so  dreadful  as  the  other.^  Can  you  conceive  of 
any  possession  or  enjoyment  that  you  would  choose  to  have,  on  condi- 


The  Incalculable  Worth  of  the  Soul,  S7 

tion  that  it  should  subject  you  to  the  torments,  and  deprive  you  of  the 
glories,  that  have  been  set  beibre  you?  No — reason  and  common  sense 
turn  instantly  with  disdain  and  abhorrence  from  the  thought.  Here, 
then,  you  unite  with  the  inspired  penman  and  say  "The  redemption — 
the  purchase  price,  of  the  soul  is  precious,  and  it  ceaseth  forever." 
Consider,  then, 

II.  That  it  must  be  unspeakable  folly  to  exchange  it  for  any  consi- 
deration or  possession  whatsoever,  on  account  of  which  it  may  be  sa- 
crificed. 

My  brethren,  I  told  you  in  the  entrance  of  the  discourse,  that  this 
subject  was  so  plain  that  it  was  difficult  to  illustrate  it,  and  I  now  feel 
the  full  force  of  the  remark.  I  seem  to  have  anticipated  all  that  can 
properly  fall  under  this  part  of  my  plan — For  if  the  soul  be  of  such 
immense  worth  that  the  whole  world  is  not  an  equivalent  for  it;  if  it 
far  transcends  every  offer  that  can  be  made  for  its  purchase;  the  con- 
clusion is  already  formed,  and  formed  with  the  utmost  force,  that  to 
exchange  or  lose  it,  for  any  low  consideration,  is  folly  for  which  we 
have  not  a  name.  But  alas!  still  it  is  a  folly  often  witnessed;  and 
therefore,  though  it  is  impossible  to  add  strength  to  the  argument,  you 
must  bear  with  me,  while  I  point  out  some  striking  instances  of  the 
melancholy  fact. 

One  such  instance  you  see,  in  those  who  are  devoted  to  the  pleasures 
of  the  world.  At  the  shrine  of  these  pleasures  their  souls  are  sacri- 
ficed. Devoted  to  that  mirth  which  enchantingly  agitates  the  mind 
and  drowns  reflection;  or  fascinated  by  that  ceaseless  round  of  fashion- 
able amusement  which  leaves  no  time  for  serious  thought;  or  hurried 
on  by  the  gratification  of  those  appetites  which  extinguish  conscience 
and  sensualize  the  whole  soul;  the  care,  and  almost  the  existence  of  the 
soul,  is  forgotten  and  disregarded.  Suppose  then,  ye  votaries  of  plea- 
sure,— suppose  what  is  not  likely  to  take  place — that  you  enjoy  your 
idol  without  interruption  to  the  very  close  of  life,  and  then  that  you 
miss  the  heaven,  and  sink,  as  you  certainly  will,  into  the  hell  that  has 
been  described — where,  I  demand  it  of  you,  where  is  the  wisdom  of 
your  choice.'^  Have  you  laid  your  plans  for  enjoyment  aright.^  Have 
you  not  rather  acted  the  part  of  infatuation?  For  a  few  fleeting  indul- 
gences, you  have  lost  an  interminable  and  inconceivable  happiness, 
and  subjected  yourselves  to  hopeless  and  endless  misery. 

Again — The  possessions  of  the  world,  are  another  consideration  for 
which  thousands  of  souls  are  continually  bartered  away.  Bad  as  the 
bargain  is,  wealth  is  commonly  and  greedily  accepted,  in  exchange  for 
the  immortal  part  of  man.  So  true  and  so  frequent  is  this,  that  we 
have  the  authority  of  omniscience  itself  to  say,  that  riches  and  the  sal- 
vation of  the  sold  are  only  not  mcompatible — "  How  hardly  shall  they 
that  have  riches  enter  into  the  kingdom  of  God?"  Busied,  and  bur- 
dened, and  perplexed,  by  the  cares,  exertions  and  anxieties,  by  which 
their  v/orldly  interests  are  to  be  advanced  and  wealth  secured;  or  else 
with  their  whole  thoughts  and  hearts  engrossed  and  occupied  by  those 
contemplations,  passions  and  pursuits,  which  affluence  begets  and  che- 
rishes, rich  men  are  apt  to  undervalue  and  neglect  the  true  riches,  and 
to  give  themselves  for  the  bribes  of  the  world.  Grant  them,  then,  for 
the  sake  of  a  case — grant  them  the  full  attainment  of  the  object  which 
they  seek.  Allow — ye  who  are  so  intent  on  accumulating  gain — allow 
that  your  most  sanguine  wishes  shall  not  only  be  realized,  but  exceed- 
ed. Let  it  be  admitted  that  you  become  the  very  darlings  of  fortune, 
and  be  rich  even  to  a  proverb — Admit  it  all,  and  then  answer  me — ye 


S8  TJie  Incalculable  Worth  of  the  SouL 

men  of  calculation^  answer,  to  the  plain  question  of  profit  and  loss^ 
which  the  Saviour  proposes  in  the  text — "  What  is  a  man  profited 
though  he  gain  the  whole  world,  and  lose  his  own  soul."  When  the 
av/ful  sound,  which  struck  the  ears  of  one  of  your  brethren,  shall  be 
rung  in  yours — "  this  night  thy  soul  shall  be  required  of  thee;"  and 
when,  with  another,  you  shall  "  lift  up  your  eyes  in  hell  being  in  tor- 
ments"— how  will  your  estimates  then  appear?  Ah!  you  will  ihen  dis- 
cover an  error  awfully  great — an  error  which  it  will  be  forever  too  late 
to  correct.  Your  account  will  then  be  unchangeably  settled.  You 
have  lost  your  souls,  and  you  have  nothing  to  give  in  exchange  for 
them,  to  redeem  them  from  the  prison  of  despair,  whence  you  cannot 
escape  "till  you  have  paid  the  uttermost  farthing." 

Again — Another  object  at  which  many  grasp  so  as  to  lose  their  souls, 
is  "  the  hoRGicr  ivkich  cometh  from  man."  To  be  esteemed  great  and 
wise,  to  possess  reputation  and  influence,  to  be  the  object  of  admira- 
tion with  the  living,  and  secure  a  name  and  applause  beyond  the  grave, 
this  is  the  illusion  which  enchants  a  number,  and  persuades  them  to  re- 
sign the  hopes  of  the  gospel,  in  the  attempt  to  seize  the  phantom. 
Assume  then  as  a  fact  the  greatest  improbability.  Imagine  that  these 
men  who  idolize  fame,  become  her  most  successful  and  happy  vota- 
ries. Imagine  that  they  obtain  universal  admiration  and  esteem  while 
living,    and  that  their  names,  when  dead,  become  synonymous   with 

*  genius,  or  learning,  or  wisdom,  or  patriotism,  or  heroism — with 
any  thing,  or  with  every  thing,  in  chase  of  which  the  soul  may  be  lost 
— And  then  tell  us — Ye  oracles  of  wisdom,  I  put  the  inquiry  to  your- 
selves— tell  us  what  it  will  avail  you  to  be  praised  and  envied  in  this 
world,  when,  at  that  very  moment,  you  shall  be  tormented  with  hopeless 
anguish  in  the  world  to  come?  Will  the  recollection  that  your  fellow 
worms  are  admiring  you,  sooth  the  pain  of  the  fire  that  never  shall  be 
quenched."*  Will  the  applauses  of  mortals  comfort  you  under  the  wrath 
of  God,  and  a  final  banishment  from  his  presence?  How  will  the  part 
you  have  chosen  appear  in  the  day  of  judgment,  and  at  the  tribunal  of 
Christ?  When  you  shall  be  separated  to  shame  and  everlasting  con- 
tempt before  the  assembled  universe,  how  ineffably  foolish  will  that 
wisdom  appear,  Avhich  taught  you  to  prefer  "  the  honour  which  cometh 
from  man,  before  that  which  cometh  from  God  only?"  Yes,  then  it 
will  be  seen  in  a  stronger  light  than  the  truth  can  now  receive,  that 
those  who  have  endured  the  most  contemptuous  sneers,  the  most  in- 
sulting ridicule,  the  bitterest  scoffs,  the  most  cruel  persecution,  and 
death  itself,  rather  than  forsake  the  Saviour,  have  chosen  a  portion  in- 
finitely desirable  and  valuable;  and  that  those  who  have  been  induced, 
by  any  considerations,  to  desert  the  cause,  or  be  ashamed  of  the  name 
of  the  Redeemer,  have  acted  a  part  more  infatuated  and  injurious  to 
themselves,  than  imagination  can  paint.  The  one  class  have  preferred 
time,  to  eternity — the  other,  eternity  to  time;  the  one  experience  a 
loss  that  is  infinite — the  other  reap  a  gain  that  is  incalculable.  ' 

Once  more — Thousands  lose  their  souls  through  mere  carelessness , 
indifference,  and  inactioyi.  They  do  not  remarkably  indulge  inordinate 
passions,  but  neither  do  they  cordially  embrace  the  gospel.     They  are 

.  asleep  in  a  carnal  and  unregenerate  state.  They  hear  the  gospel,  but 
they  do  not  obey  it.  They  are  unwilling  to  think  on  religion,  because 
it  interrupts  their  peace.  They  voluntarily  indulge  an  indolent 
thoughtlessness  of  their  condition,  and  nothing  can  engage  them  to 
*'  strive  to  enter  in  at  the  strait  gate."  In  a  word,  they  are  at  ease 
in  their  sins,  and  they  hate  to  be  disturbed  5  and  as  the  kingdom  of 


The  Incalcu!Me  Worth  of  the  Soul.  39 

heaven  "  siiffereth  violence,"  they  lose  it,  because  they  will  not  "  take 
it  by  force."  We  will  grant  you,  then,  ye  slothful  souls,  ye  sleepers 
under  the  call  of  the  gospel — we  will  grant  that  your  consciences  shall 
never  sting  you,  nor  your  minds  be  disturbed  by  religion,  till  your  final 
hour.  But  beyond  that  hour  your  stupor  cannot  last.  Then  you  will 
be  roused  by  the  gnawings  of  "  the  worm  that  shall  never  die."  And 
when  you  see  heaven  lost,  and  final  perdition  incurred,  by  your  invin- 
cible carelessness  and  neglect,  how  will  you  upbraid  yourselves  in 
agony,  that  you  would  never  exert  your  faculties,  till  exertion  could 
only  augment  your  misery. 

But,  my  brethren,  justice  to  my  subject  requires  that  I  now  recall 
all  the  concessions  that  I  have  made  for  the  sake  of  argument.  The 
worldling  does  not  always  obtain  wealthy  the  man  of  pleasure  does  not 
always  escape  pain;  the  pursuer  of  fame  does  not  always  attain  re- 
nown; the  careless  sinner  is  not  always  able  to  preserve  his  quiet  to 
the  last.  On  the  contrary,  the  chance  to  any  individual  is  very  small, 
that  he  will  be  fortunate  enough  to  realize  his  hopes  and  expectations 
to  any  considerable  extent;  and  great  disappointment  and  vexation  he 
will  certainly  experience.  Often  do  the  men  to  whom  I  have  alluded, 
suffer  more,  even  in  this  life,  than  many  other  men  suffer.  So  that  in 
fact,  they  often  give  up  their  interest  in  both  v/orlds — "  First  dragged 
through  this,  then  damned  in  that  to  come."  On  the  other  hand — true 
religion  is  not  inconsistent  with  wealth,  with  pleasure,  with  character, 
or  with  ease,  so  far  as  they  are  real  ingredients  in  present  happiness: 
Nay,  unfeigned  piety  gives  us  the  best  enjoyment  of  all  these — "  God- 
liness is  profitable  unto  all  things,  having  the  promise  of  the  life  which 
now  is,  and  of  that  which  is  to  come." 

Here,  then,  is  the  true  and  correct  statement — Men  lose  their  souls, 
forfeit  heaven,  and  sink  into  hell,  for  something  here  which,  after  all, 
they  do  not  obtain.  They  are  often  wretched  in  time,  and  wretched 
throughout  eternity,  for  the  sake  of  grasping  at  an  object  which  they 
cannot  reach.  And  all  this,  when,  by  true  religion,  they  might  really 
possess  the  greatest  enjoyment  in  this  life,  and  secure  eternal  felicity 
in  the  life  to  come.  Behold,  here,  the  wisdom  of  this  world!  Language 
cannot  express  the  madness  of  its  absurdity,  nor  describe  the  conse- 
quences of  listening  to  its  dictates.     Let  us,  then — 

in.  Carefully  apply  and  improve  this  subject.  And  here  the  first 
point  that  each  of  us  ought  to  settle,  is — whether  lie  be  concerned  or 
not,  in  this  fearful  business  of  giving  his  soul  for  the  world .^  It  is  a 
question  of  infinite  importance,  and  I  do  entreat  you  to  put  it  honestly 
to  your  consciences  and  hearts.  I  beg  of  every  individual  to  ask  him- 
self fairly  and  seriously,  whether  he  loves  God,  or  the  world,  the  most? 
This  decides  the  point — If  you  love  not  God  supremely,  you  have  no 
such  love  to  him  as  will  save  your  souls.  He  will  not  share  your  af- 
fections with  any  rival.  "  You  cannot  serve  God  and  mammon."  The 
one,  or  the  other,  is  your  lord  and  sovereign.  Decide  the  question — 
which  is  it?  Do  you  hesitate?  If  you  belong  to  any  of  those  classes 
or  descriptions  of  character  that  I  have  just  set  before  you,  you  need 
not  deliberate  a  moment.  You  have  chosen  the  world,  and  your  soul 
is  the  forfeiture.  Are  you  really  doubtful  about  your  state?  Then 
come,  and  let  us  investigate  it  closely.  Have  you  ever  felt  that  you 
were  by  nature  and  by  practice  a  lost  and  perishing  sinner?  I  ask  not 
whether  you  h?.ve  speculatively  believed  this — I  ask  if  you  hsLxe  felt  it. 
Has  the  sight  and  conviction  of  your  sin,  given  you  such  uneasiness 
that  you  have  felt  willing  to  give  up  the  world,  as  your  supreme  good? 


40  The  Incalculable  Worth  of  the  Soul. 

Yea,  felt  that  if  you  had  owned  a  world,  you  would  have  been  ready 
to  give  it  freely,  if  this  had  been  the  price  of  obtaining  pardon  and 
reconciliation  with  your  Maker?  In  these  circumstances,  has  the 
Lord  Jesus  Christ  been  presented  to  your  view,  as  the  only,  and  the 
all-sufficient  Saviour?  Have  you  renounced  all  your  own  doings  and 
righteousness,  as  of  no  avail,  and  cast  yourselves — helpless  and  hope- 
less from  any  other  quarter — on  him,  as  the  entire  hope,  and  only  re- 
fuge of  your  souls?  Have  you  ever  been  drawn  sweetly  to  resign  your- 
selves to  him,  to  save  you  from  the  power  and  dominion  of  sin,  as  well 
as  from  its  punishment?  Have  you,  in  consequence  of  this,  found  Christ 
Jesus  unspeakably  precious?  Have  you  solemnly  renounced  the  world, 
and  all  that  it  can  offer,  so  far  as  it  shall  come  in  competition  with 
the  laws  and  service  of  God?  Have  you  chosen  God  in  Christ,  as  your 
portion  and  supreme  good;  determined  to  undervalue  and  treat  as 
"  dross  and  dung,"  every  thing  inconsistent  with  his  love  and  favour? 
Have  you  been  able  to  keep  this  purpose — not  perfectly,  for  none 
do  this — but  yet  so  prevailingly  that  you  do  prefer  the  ways,  the 
favour  and  the  glory  of  God,  before  all  other  considerations?  Can  you, 
and  do  you,  give  up  the  possessions,  the  pleasures,  and  the  good 
opinion  of  the  world,  when  they  are  opposed  to  Christian  duty?  Are 
your  heart,  your  treasure,  and  your  affections,  in  heaven?  Do  you 
study  to  adorn  the  doctrine  of  God  your  Saviour,  in  all  things — by  a 
meek,  and  humble,  and  exemplary  deportment;  and  by  the  faithful, 
diligent,  and  conscientious  discharge  of  every  social  and  relative  duty? 
If  so,  you  are  the  Lord's,  and  he  will  keep  that  which  you  have  com- 
mitted to  him.  A  few  days  of  trial  more,  and  you  will  enter  on  that 
glorious  state  of  endless  and  increasing  blessedness,  which  has  been 
faintly  described  in  this  discourse. 

But  my  principal  business  is  with  those  whose  consciences  inform 
them  that  tkey  must  answer  the  inquiries  proposed  in  the  negative. 
Let  them  know  assuredly,  that  they  have  trifled  or  trafficked  away  their 
souls.  Dear  deluded  immortals!  Count  me  not  your  enemy  because  I 
tell  you  the  truth.  Behold,  I  come  to  you  this  hour  with  a  message,  that 
you  ought  to  receive  with  the  greatest  thankfulness  and  joy.  I  come 
to  tell  you,  that  it  is  not  too  late  to  retract  the  fatal  transaction^  by  which 
you  have  lost  your  souls.  I  come  to  proclaim  to  you  in  the  name  of 
Jehovah,  that  your  "  covenant  Vv'ith  death,"  may,  and  ought  to  be  dis- 
annulled; and  your  "  agreement  v/ith  hell,"  to  be  broken.  I  come  to 
persuade  you  immediately  to  renounce  and  cast  far  from  you,  the 
wages  of  eternal  death.  Will  you  not  listen,  with  all  the  powers  of 
your  souls,  to  this  information?  If  you  will,  you  may  yet  be  saved. 
Such  is  the  transcendent  mercy  of  God,  and  the  wonderful  condescen- 
sion of  the  Saviour,  that  he  invites  you  to  come  to  him,  although  you 
have  hitherto  been  the  property  of  his  enemies,  and  refused  all  the 
kind  and  merciful  offers  that  he  has  made  to  win  you  to  himself.  He 
is  still  carrying  on  the  treaty  of  peace.  He  is  still  "  reconciling  the 
world  unto  himself,  not  imputing  their  trespasses  unto  them."  If 
you  will  now  break  your  league  with  your  idols  and  your  lusts,  cast 
yourselves  at  the  foot  of  his  mercy,  confess  your  sins  heartily,  forsake 
them  truly,  and  trust  to  the  finished  righteousness  of  the  Redeemer,  as 
the  ground  of  your  acceptance,  your  souls  will  yet  be  saved,  and  will 
yet  rise  and  shine  in  the  mansions  of  eternal  glory.  Can  you  need  any 
arguments  to  persuade  you  to  choose  this,  rather  than  to  go  on  and 
perish  forever?  I  know  of  none  that  can  be  offered  more  powerful  than 
those  you  have  already  heard.     Ponder  them,  I  beseech  you,  till  they 


The  JVature  and  Effects  of  Regeneration,  41 

rouse  into  action  every  energy  of  your  minds.  Remember  your  souls 
are  at  stake;  and  if  they  are  worth  more  than  a  world,  they  are  surely 
worth  a  conflict  for  their  salvation.  Look  to  God,  to  aid  you  by  his 
grace;  for  without  this,  whatever  impressions  you  may  feel,  whatever 
resolutions  you  may  form — all,  I  know,  will  be  effaced  and  lost.  You 
will  become  again  insensible  and  infatuated,  till  you  are  forever  undone. 
Pray,  therefore,  in  forming  every  purpose,  and  in  making  every  effort,  for 
the  effectual  aid  of  God's  Holy  Spirit;  and  resolving  in  divine  strength, 
and  looking  constantly  for  divine  assistance,  make  no  delay  in  beginning 
the  work;  undervalue  and  disregard  all  that  shall  oppose  you  in  it — 
and  the  prize  is  yours.  You  shall  be  delivered  from  the  power  of  sin 
and  the  slavery  of  Satan;  you  shall  be  saved  from  the  pit  of  destruc- 
tion; you  shall  be  numbered  with  the  adopted  children  of  God  on 
earth;  and  you  shall,  with  them,  possess  hereafter  "  an  inheritance,  in- 
corruptible and  undefiled,  and  that  fadeth  not  away,  reserved  in  hea- 
ven, for  those  who  are  kept  by  the  power  of  God  through  faith  unto 
salvation,  ready  to  be  revealed  in  the  last  time.'*     Amen. 


SERXIXOIT. 

THE  NATURE  AND  EFFECTS  OF  REGENERATION. 

2  Cor.  iv.  6. — "For  God,  who  commanded  the  light  to  shine  out  of  darkness,  hath 
shined  in  our  hearts,  to  give  us  the  light  of  the  knowledge  of  the  glory  of  God,  ia 
the  face  of  Jesus  Christ." 

That  the  god  of  this  world  hath  blinded  the  eyes  of  the  children  of 
men,  is  a  truth  which  Scripture  and  experience  unite  to  confirm.  In- 
sensible, by  nature,  of  the  beauty  and  excellence  of  holiness,  we  wander 
in  pursuit  of  the  unlawful  pleasures  which  our  corrupted  passions 
suggest,  and  easily  fall  into  the  snares  which  the  enemy  of  our  salva- 
tion spreads  for  our  destruction.  Natural  conscience,  rendered  insen- 
sible by  repeated  perversions  and  violations,  ceases  at  length  to  do  its  of- 
fice, and  the  unhappy  offender  is  left  to  the  fatal  consequences  of  an  unre- 
strained indulgence  of  his  corruptions  and  lusts.  This,  although  a  dark, 
is  not  an  unjust  picture,  of  the  natural  state,  and  tendency  of  man.  It 
is,  in  effect,  the  picture  which  the  Apostle  has  given,  in  the  verses  im- 
mediately preceding  the  text.  And  on  the  justness  of  this  representa- 
tion, is  founded  the  necessity  of  that  great  change  which  we  are  now 
to  illustrate  from  the  inspired  declaration, — "  That  God,  who  com- 
manded the  light  to  shine  out  of  darkness,  hath  shined  in  our  hearts- 
meaning  the  hearts  of  those  who  believe — to  give  us  the  light  of  the 
knowledge  of  the  glory  of  God,  in  the  face  of  Jesus  Christ." 

In  this  declaration  of  the  Apostle,  the  three  following  important 
points,  seem  to  be  implied — 

I.  That  the  change  which,  in  regeneration,  is  wrought  by  God  in  the 
hearts  of  sinners,  is  a  work  of  creation. 

II.  That  the  consequence  of  this  change  is,  a  new  and  impressive  dis- 
covery of  the  glory  of  God;  and 

III.  That  this  discovery  is  made  through  the  medium  of  the  charac- 
ter and  work  of  Jesus  Christ. 

Previously  to  entering  on  the  illustration  of  the  general  doctrines 
laid  down,  it  may  not  be  improper  just  to  take  notice,  that  divines  have 
sometimes  been  divided,  respecting  the  manner  in  which  the  operation 
F 


42  'Hie  JVature  and  Effects  of  Regeneration* 

of  the  Spirit  of  God  produces  its  effects  on  the  heart.  It  is  said  on  the 
one  hand,  that  the  change  is  wrought  by  light  conveyed  to  the  under- 
standing, in  such  an  irresistible  manner  that  the  approbation  of  the 
heart  of  necessity  follows.  On  the  other  hand,  it  is  alleged,  that 
oftentimes  there  is  no  need  of  any  further  illumination  of  the  under- 
standing, but  only  of  a  new  temper,  disposed  to  love  the  truths  already 
clearly  and  sufficiently  apprehended.  It  does  not  seem  a  matter  of 
much  consequence,  to  enter  far  into  this  discussion.  Whether  the  under- 
standing or  the  heart  be  first  applied  to,  on  either  supposition,  the  event 
is  the  same.  The  mind  which  was  before  at  enmity,  is  now  changed, 
and  filled  with  love  to  God.  Perhaps  in  this,  as  in  many  other  disputes 
which  have  divided  the  Christian  church,  truth  lies  not  wholly  on  the 
one  side  or  the  other.  Probably,  both  the  understanding  is  enlight- 
ened, and  the  heart,  by  a  direct  influence,  renewed  unto  holiness,  at  the 
same  time.  Absolutely  to  pronounce  on  the  ways  of  God,  is  beyond 
the  knowledge  and  the  duty  of  man.  Our  inquiries,  therefore,  on  these 
subjects,  ought  ever  to  be  made  with  reverence  and  humility.  In  the 
economy  of  grace,  as  well  as  of  nature,  undoubtedly  there  may  be 
various  ways  of  producing  the  same  effect.  In  the  present  instance,  it 
is  probable,  as  has  been  said,  that  a  change  of  heart  is  most  frequently, 
if  not  always,  accompanied  with  an  uncommonly  clear  apprehension  of 
divine  things.  But  which  of  these  is  necessarily  first,  in  the  order  of 
nature,  is  perhaps  a  point  on  which  it  belongs  not  to  us  to  pronounce. 
Neither  would  it  be  a  matter  of  great  importance,  could  we  be  abso- 
lutely decided  on  this,  or  any  such  question.  For  on  any  subtlety,  or 
nice  distinction,  in  regard  to  the  mode  of  the  divine  operations,  the  es- 
sentials of  religion  do  not  depend.  Are  we  not  taught  reserve  on  this 
subject  by  the  declaration  of  the  Saviour  himself? — "The  wind  bloweth 
where  it  listeth,  and  thou  hearest  the  sound  thereof,  but  canst  not  tell 
whence  it  cometh  and  whither  it  goeth;  so  is  every  one  that  is  born 
of  the  Spirit."  What  is  clearly  revealed  in  the  divine  word,  and  what 
we  proposed  first  to  illustrate  from  the  words  of  the  text  is — That  the 
change  which,  in  regeneration,  is  Avrought  by  God  in  the  hearts  of  sin- 
ners, is  a  work  of  creation.  This  seems  evidently  to  be  taught,  by  the 
Apostle's  comparing  the  power  of  God  in  the  original  creation  of  light, 
^vith  his  operation  in  producing  the  light  of  life  in  the  unholy  heart — 
"  God  who  commanded  the  light  to  shine  out  of  darkness,  hath  shined 
in  our  hearts."  As  if  he  had  said — "  The  same  creative  power,  which 
made  light  to  spring  out  of  the  darkness  and  confusion  of  chaos,  hath,  by 
a  similar  operation,  made  divine  light  to  shine,  amidst  the  darkness  and 
disorder  which  sin  had  introduced  into  the  hearts  of  his  people.  This 
sentiment,  somewhat  diversified  in  the  manner  of  its  expression,  is  de- 
livered in  many  other  passages  of  Scripture.  Sometimes  it  is  repre- 
sented as  a  new  birth.  "  Ye  must  be  born  again,"  said  our  Lord  to 
Nicodemus.  "  If  any  man  be  in  Christ,"  saith  the  Apostle,  "he  is  a 
new  creature,  old  things  are  passed  away,  behold,  all  things  are  become 
new."  Sometimes,  it  is  spoken  of  as  a  great  change  or  transformation. 
"Beholding,  as  in  a  glass,  the  glory  of  the  Lord,  we  are  changed  into 
the  same  image,  from  glory  to  glory,  even  as  by  tht  Spirit  of  the 
Lord."  "Be  ye  transformed  by  the  renewing  of  your  mind,  that  ye 
may  prove,  what  is  that  good,  and  acceptable,  and  perfect  will  of  God." 
But  whatever  figure,  or  mode  of  expression  is  used,  the  idea  is  still  pre- 
served, that  a  creative  power  has  been  exerted  on  the  soul.  "Put  on 
the  new  man  which,  after  God,  is  created  in  righteousness,  and  true 
holiness." 

Let  us  examine  this  doctrine,  so  clearly  and  explicitly  taught  in  Holy 


The  J\*ature  and  Effects  of  Regeneration*  4S 

Scripture,  by  the  test  of  facts  and  experience.  Look  abroad  into  the 
world,  and  consult  your  own  observation.  You  shall  find  a  man  who 
was  once  proud  and  overbearing-,  nov/  meek  and  humble;  one  who  was 
once  revengeful,  now  forgiving;  one  who  was  once  selfish,  now  benevo- 
lent; one  who  was  once  impure  and  sensual,  now  chaste  and  holy.  In 
short,  you  shall  find  every  moral  bias,  and  habit  of  the  mind,  taking  anew 
and  a  contrary  direction.  Nor  shall  we  find  these  persons  thus  altered, 
by  philosophical  reasoning  on  the  superior  pleasures  of  virtue,  above 
those  of  vice.  Many  of  them,  perhaps,  never  put  the  question  to  them- 
selves, whether  religion  and  piety  do,  or  do  not,  lead  directly  to  present  - 
happiness.  Or  if  they  have,  the  event  has  been,  that  so  far  from  con- 
sidering them  as  favourable  to  present  enjoyment,  they  have  rather 
viewed  them  as  the  bane  of  every  worldly  pleasure,  and  only  necessary 
as  a  refuge  aud  security  against  future  punishment.  But  the  Spirit  of 
God  has  laid  hold  on  their  hearts,  and  co-operating  with  conscience, 
has,  after  many  reluctant  struggles,  subjected  them  to  the  yoke  of 
Christ.  I  do  not  mean  that  men  are  regenerated  against  their  inclina- 
tion. "  Thy  people,  says  the  Psalmist,  shall  be  willing  in  the  day  of  thy 
power."  Those  whose  minds  have  been  directly  opposed  to  faith  and 
repentance,  have,  in  their  renovation,  a  disposition  to  these  graces, 
sweetly,  but  powerfully  wrought  within  them.  Now  what  is  this  but 
creation.^  Darkness  is  turned  into  light;  sin  into  holiness;  hatred  into 
love;  and  pollution  into  purity. 

In  describing  these  striking  effects  of  the  Spirit's  operation,  it  is  not 
intended  to  mark  the  uniform  manner  of  his  influence.  Such  examples 
are  adduced,  only  as  the  most  visible  and  irresistible  proofs  of  the 
proposition  to  be  established.  In  other,  and  perhaps  in  more  nume- 
rous instances,  the  change  from  nature  to  grace,  is  much  less  conspi- 
cuous. In  some,  it  may  have  been  very  silent,  and  apparently  gradual. 
The  habits  of  education  and  instruction  may  have  so  prepared  the  mind, 
that  though  there  must  have  been  some  period  when  grace  was  first 
implanted  in  the  heart,  yet  so  small  has  been  the  sensible  alteration 
produced,  as  not  to  be  observed  at  all  by  others,  and  hardly  known,  but 
by  its  growth,  to  the  individual  in  whom  it  has  taken  place.  Still,  how- 
ever, a  work  of  creation  must  have  been  wrought.  Widely  different 
are  the  silent  stream  and  the  gentle  breeze,  from  the  roaring  torrent 
and  the  boisterous  tempest;  yet  the  agents  are  the  same,  and  the  bene- 
volent designs  of  the  Deity  are  alike  accomplished  by  all. 

It  will  only  be  necessary  to  observe,  further,  on  this  part  of  the  sub- 
ject, that  in  the  creation  contemplated,  we  do  not  mean  that  any  addi- 
tion is  made  to  the  natural  powers  of  the  soul.  The  moral  disposition, 
or  the  heart,  is  the  chief  subject  of  the  work  of  which  I  have  been 
speaking.  Those  affections  and  feelings  which  before  were  employed 
and  pleased  only  with  sensual  or  temporal  things,  are  now  disposed  to 
relish  and  delight  supremely,  in  those  which  are  spiritual  and  divine.  For 

II.  The  consequence  of  the  great  change  of  which  I  have  spoken,  is 
a  new  and  impressive  discovery  of  the  glory  of  God.  "  To  give  us, 
says  the  text,  the  light  of  the  knowledge  of  the  glory  of  God."  This 
is  an  expression  so  highly  wrought,  as  not  to  be  altered,  or  amplified, 
without  losing  something  either  of  its  beauty  or  strength.  The  Apos- 
tle is  not  contented  to  say,  simply,  that  the  light^  or  the  knowledge,  or 
the  glory  of  God,  is  revealed.  But  it  is  the  light  of  the  knowledge  of 
the  glory  q/"  God — the  clearest  communication  of  the  highest  species  of 
knowledge,  even  that  of  the  glory  of  God,  which  is  made  to  the  new 
born  soul.  The  whole  is  likewise  heightened,  by  the  contrast  which 
it  forms  with  the  description  of  unbelievers,  in  a  preceding  verse. 


44  The  JVature  and  Effects  of  Regeneration. 

There  it  is  said,  that  "  the  god  of  this  world  hath  blinded  the  minds  of 
them  who  believe  not,  lest  the  light  of  the  glorious  gospel  of  Christ, 
who  is  the  image  of  God,  should  shine  unto  them." 

A  perception  of  the  glory  of  God  consists  in  a  just  view  of  the  infinity, 
harmony  and  moral  beauty,  of  all  the  divine  attributes.  Some  faint  traces 
of  several  of  the  perfections  of  the  Deity,  the  sinner  might  indeed  per- 
ceive, and  in  a  degree  admire.  The  wisdom,  the  power,  and  the  goodness 
of  the  great  Creator,  are  noble  objects  of  contemplation,  for  every  intel- 
ligent creature.  But  to  view  the  Supreme  Being  in  a  partial  manner,  is 
so  far  from  beholding  his  glory,  that  it  is  rather  a  degradation  of  his  ex- 
cellence. Is  he  wise?  His  wisdom  is  not  confined  to  the  formation  and 
government  of  the  material  creation.  It  extends,  likewise,  to  the  moral 
perfection  of  his  system.  And  here  he  often  "  taketh  the  wise,  in  their 
own  craftiness;  and  the  counsel  of  the  froward  is  carried  headlong.'* 
But  it  is  in  devising  and  executing  the  plan  of  redemption  by  Jesus 
Christ,  that  the  wisdom  of  God  is  most  displayed,  and  appears  the 
most  glorious,  both  to  saints  and  angels — "To  the  intent,  says  the 
apostle,  that  now  unto  the  principalities  and  powers  in  heavenly  places, 
might  be  known  by  the  church  the  manifold  wisdom  of  God."  Is  he 
powerful.^  Not  merely  in  creating  and  upholding  the  visible  universe, 
but  likewise  in  executing  all  his  plans  and  purposes  for  the  salvation  of 
his  people;  in  defeating  and  punishing  his  enemies,  and  in  protecting 
and  rewarding  his  own  children.  So  that  he  saith  to  the  former,  "  I 
will  break  the  pride  of  your  power.'*  "If  I  whet  my  glittering  sword, 
and  mine  hand  take  hold  on  judgment,  I  will  render  vengeance  to  mine 
enemies,  and  will  reward  them  that  hate  me."  To  the  latter  he  saith 
— ^"  He  giveth  power  to  the  faint,  and  to  them  that  have  no  might,  he 
increaseth  strength."  "He  shall  send  from  heaven,  and  save  thee  from 
the  reproach  of  him  that  would  swallow  thee  up."  Is  God  merciful? 
His  mercy  is  not  a  weak  and  changeable  pity,  to  contradict  and  destroy 
his  other  perfections;  for  "his  work  is  perfect,  all  his  ways  are  judg- 
ment, a  God  of  truth  and  without  iniquity,  just  and  right  is  he."  Let 
the  unholy  heart  view  the  Creator  in  this  light,  and  it  will  rise  in  re- 
bellion against  him.  But  it  is  in  this  light  that  the  renewed  soul  de- 
lights to  contemplate  him.  The  saint  cannot  be  satisfied  with  a  par- 
tial view  of  the  divine  excellence.  Having  found  by  experience  that 
his  highest  happiness  consists  in  beholding  fully  and  clearly  the  glory 
of  his  covenant  God,  nothing  short  of  its  most  perfect  perception,  which 
the  present  state  of  man  can  admit,  will  satisfy  his  desires.  Interested 
too,  like  an  affectionate  child,  who  is  convinced  that  his  father's  cha- 
racter will  appear  the  more  amiable,  the  more  closely  it  is  examined, 
he  dwells  on  every  part  of  it  with  supreme  delight.  With  these  devout 
and  pious  dispositions  of  heart,  God  is  well  pleased;  and  reveals  him- 
self to  the  holy  soul,  in  a  manner  in  which  he  doth  not  reveal  himself 
unto  the  world. 

It  is  true,  that  in  the  present  state,  "  we  know  but  in  part,  and  see 
through  a  glass  darkly."  Our  imperfect  natures  could  not  endure  the 
full  effulgence  of  the  divine  glory.  But  that  degree  of  it  which  is  here 
given  to  man  to  know  and  to  bear,  is  the  source  of  the  believer's  high- 
est joy;  and  with  humble  and  patient  expectation,  he  anticipates  the 
happy  period,  when  "  this  mortal  shall  put  on  immortality,  and  we  shall 
know  even  as  we  are  known." 

When  it  was  said  that  the  believer  delights  not  in  contemplating  a 
partial  Deity,  I  did  not  mean  to  intimate  that  there  are  not  some  of  the 
divine  perfections,  in  which  he  may  feel  himself  peculiarly  interested. 
To  the  mercy  by  which  he  is  saved,  and  from  which  he  derives  his 


The  JVature  and  Effects  of  Regeneration,  45 

daily  comforts  and  his  eternal  hopes,  he  may  look  with  uncommon 
pleasure.  But  he  never  excludes  one  of  the  perfections  of  God,  by  an 
unreasonable  extension  of  another.  He  adores  the  justice  that  punishes 
the  obstinate  sinner,  as  well  as  the  mercy  that  pardons  the  returning 
penitent.  He  considers  all  the  divine  attributes  as  perfectly  consistent 
and  harmonious,  and,  in  the  highest  degree,  worthy  of  his  admiration 
and  praise — He  sees  that  in  the  plan  of  redeeming  love,  "mercy  and 
truth  are  met  together,  righteousness  and  peace  have  kissed  each 
other."  The  believer  is  enabled  to  take  this  just  and  delightful  survey 
of  the  attributes  of  God,  because — 

HI.  He  views  them  through  the  medium  of  the  character  and  work 
of  Jesus  Christ. 

The  character  of  our  great  Redeemer  is,  as  it  were,  the  mirror  which 
exhibits  to  the  eye  of  faith  the  glory  of  God,  in  its  greatest  lustre.     It 
was  long  an  object  of  anxious  inquiry  among  the  most  enlightened  of  the 
heathen  world,  how  God  could  be  just,  and  yet  the  justifier  of  sinners, 
even  when  repentant.     Perfectly  holy  and  righteous  himself,  no  expec- 
tation of  a  return  of  indulgence  could  induce  him  to  bestow  pardon  on 
the  guilty;  and  how  the  moral  government  of  the  universe  could  be 
sustained,  if  every  offender  did  not  receive  the  punishment  due  to  his 
transgressions,  was  a  question  of  difficult  solution.     But  by  the  death 
of  Christ,  this  dark,  important  problem,  was  solved  at  once.     The  jus- 
tice of  God,  which  would  not  be  pacified  without  satisfaction,  when  the 
life  of  his  own  Son  was  the  price  of  its  vindication,  appeared  awfully 
conspicuous;  and  the  mercy,  which  would   provide   and   pay  such  a 
price  for  offending   sinners,  shone  forth  in   all   the   splendour  of  its 
charms.     Here,  then,  in  the  redemption  of  Christ,  the  glory  of  God 
appears  to  the  renewed  soul,  in  a  way  of  which  the  wisest  of  the  an- 
cient heathen  were  totally  ignorant,    and  for  which  the  men    of  the 
world,  in  every  age,  have  had  no  relish.     In  creation  and  providence, 
they  may  have  perceived  his  power,  and  admired  his  wisdom.     Evi- 
dent as  they  are  to  the  eye  of  sense,  it  would  not  have  been  easy  to  re- 
sist them.   But  the  consistency  and  harmony  of  the  divine  perfections — 
the  union  of  justice  and  mercy — the  very  light  of  the  knowledge  of  his 
glory,  can  be  seen  only  by  the  eye  of  faith,  in  the  plan  of  redemption — 
and  to  the  lustre  of  this,  the  heathen  were  perfectly  blind,  and  gospel- 
ized  sinners  are  insensible  and  stupid.     Nor  is  the  union  of  justice  with 
mercy,  loudly  demanding,  as  it  does,  our  admiration  and  wonder,  the 
only  display  of  the  divine  glory,  which  is  seen  through  the  character 
of  Jesus  Christ.     "  He  is  himself  the  brightness  of  his  Father's  glory, 
and  the  express  image  of  his  person."     In  him  the  perfections  of  God, 
without  being  degraded,  are,  as  it  were,  humanized,  and  brought  more 
within  the  bounds  of  finite  conception.     In  him  the  rays  of  uncreated 
glory  are  all  concentred:  and  from  him  they  beam  forth  in  all  their 
separate  or  blended  beauty,  to  the  eye  of  the  believing  mind.     Does  it 
behoove  us  to  contemplate  God  as  a  being  pure  and  spiritual?     In 
Christ  Jesus  the  believer  is  "filled  with  all  wisdom  and  spiritual  under- 
standing."    "  He  is  blessed  with   all   spiritual  blessings  in  heavenly 
places."    "  He  that  is  joined  to  the  Lord  is  one  spirit."    The  Redeem- 
er's kingdom  is  continually  represented  as  spiritual.     His  saints  "  as 
lively  stones,  are  built  up  a  spiritual  house,  an  holy  priesthood,  to  offer 
up  spiritual  sacrifices,  acceptable  to  God  by  Jesus  Christ."     Does  the 
immensity  of  the  Supreme  Being  overwhelm  the  contemplative  mind? 
Christ  Jesus  is  "  the  fulness  of  him  that  filleth  all  in  all."     Do  we  ad- 
mire the  wisdom  of  God?     "Angels  desire  to  look"  into  the  depth  of 
that  wisdom  which  was  displayed  in  the  redemption  of  Christ.    Are 


46  Tlie  J^atiire  and  Effects  of  Regeneration. 

we  struck  with  amazement,  when  we  contemplate  the  Almighty  power? 
By  Christ  "the  worlds  were  made."  When  here  on  earth,  "the winds 
and  the  seas  obeyed  him" — When  he  was  assaulted  by  sinners,  "twelve 
legions  of  angels"  stood  ready  at  his  call.  When  he  died,  the  sun  was 
darkened,  the  rocks  rent,  the  earth  quaked,  and  the  dead  arose.  When 
he  was  laid  in  the  grave,  the  bands  of  death  could  not  confine  him — He 
broke  them  in  sunder,  and  plucked  away  the  sting  of  death  for  the  be- 
nefit of  all  his  followers.  In  his  very  submission  to  his  enemies,  he 
triumphed  over  them;  and  defeated  their  designs,  by  those  events  in 
which  they  thought  them  fulfilled.  "  When  he  ascended  up  on  high,  he 
led  captivity  captive,  and  gave  gifts  unto  men."  Exalted  to  his  fa- 
ther's right  hand,  God  hath  "  set  him  far  above  all  principality,  and 
power,  and  might,  and  dominion,  and  every  name  that  is  named,  not 
only  in  this  world,  but  also  in  that  which  is  to  come;  and  hath  put  all 
things  under  his  feet,  and  given  him  to  be  head  over  all  things  to  the 
church."  Do  we  adore  the  justice  of  the  Deity.^  How  inflexible  was 
that  justice  which  did  not  spare  in  Christ  the  incarnate  God,  when 
he  became  the  sinner's  substitute;  but  cried,  "  awake,  O  sword,  and 
smite  the  man  that  is  my  fellow."  Are  we  transported  with  the  divine 
mercy.^  Behold,  in  the  Redeemer  the  God  of  mercy  dying  for  sinful 
man.  "Feed  the  church  of  God,  said  the  apostle  Paul  to  the  Ephesian 
elders,  which  he  hath  purchased  with  his  own  blood."  "He  loved  not 
his  life  unto  the  death.  He  was  delivered  for  our  offences,  and  raised 
again  for  our  justification."  And  hence  it  is  triumphantly  declared, 
that  "neither  death,  nor  life,  nor  angels,  nor  principalities, nor  powers, 
nor  things  present,  nor  things  to  come,  nor  height,  nor  depth,  nor  any 
other  creature,  shall  be  able  to  separate  us  from  the  love  of  God  which 
is  in  Christ  Jesus  our  Lord."  Would  we  confide  in  the  truth  and 
faithfulness  of  our  heavenly  Father.^  "By  two  immutable  things — his 
promise  and  his  oath — in  which  it  is  impossible  for  God  to  lie,  we  have 
a  strong  consolation,  who  have  fled  for  refuge  to  lay  hold  on  the  hope 
set  before  us:  which  hope  we  have,  as  an  anchor  of  the  soul,  both  sure 
and  steadfast,  and  which  entereth  with  that  within  the  veil;  whither  the 
forerunner  is  for  us  entered,  even  Jesus,  made  an  high  priest  forever 
after  the  order  of  Melchisedec."  In  this  manner,  it  would  be  both 
easy  and  pleasing  to  pursue  our  subject,  till  we  had  shown  how  all  the 
attributes  of  God  are  united,  rendered  harmonious,  highly  illustrated, 
and  made  strikingly  visible  to  the  eye  of  faith,  in  the  character  and 
work  of  ihe  great  Redeemer.  Leaving  this,  however,  to  employ,  as  it 
often  will,  the  retired  hours  of  every  real  Christian,  let  us  endeavour  to 
improve  what  hath  already  been  said  on  this  subject,  by  reflecting. 

In  the  first  place,  how  absolutely  we  are  dependent  on  God  for  our 
salvation.  To  effect  it  we  have  seen  that  a  work  of  creation  must  be 
wrought  on  the  heart.  How  ought  the  reflection  to  awaken  our  con- 
cern, and  quicken  our  diligence.^  But  to  what  purpose,  it  will  proba- 
bly be  said,  would  be  our  most  strenuous  endeavours?  The  work  is 
not  ours  but  God's;  to  renew  the  heart,  it  has  been  affirmed,  is  be- 
yond the  reach  of  human  power  and  finite  exertion.  This  objection, 
however  intended,  expresses  a  solemn,  and  what  ought  to  be  an  affect- 
ing truth.  Would  to  God  that  those  in  whose  mouths  it  is  the  oftenest 
found,  felt  in  their  hearts  its  high  importance  and  its  just  consequences. 
It  would  not  then  be  so  frequently  pleaded  as  an  excuse  for  sinful  in- 
dulgence. It  would  be  the  most  powerful  of  all  motives  to  watchful- 
ness and  care.  Are  sinners  dependent  on  God  for  the  renovation  of 
their  natures?  and  yet  are  they  careless  how  much  they  offend  him? 
how  many  provocations  they  e-ive  him  to  withhold  the  necessary  influ- 


The  JSTature  and  Effects  of  Regeneration.  47 

ence  of  his  Spirit  for  so  important  a  purpose?    Do  men  act  thus,  when 
they  feel  that  they  are  utterly  dependent  on  a  fellow  creature  tor  an  im- 
portant favour?     Remember,  then,  O  sinner!  that  although  you  cannot 
save  yourself,  yet  you  may  destroy  yourself-You  may  put  yourselt,  it 
not  absolutely  beyond  the  reach,  certainly  beyond   the  reasonable  hope 
of  salvation.      And  this  you  are  in  danger  of  doing,  if  you  plead  an 
appointment  of  God,  as  an  excuse  for  offending  him~It  may  be  said 
of  you,  as  of  Ephraim  of  old,  "  he  is  joined  to  his  idols,  let  him  alone. 
Ah    remember!— there  is  such  a  thing  as  divine  dereliction;  and  that 
when  it  takes  place  the  individual  whom  it  affects,  is  as  sure  of  perdition 
as  if  he  were  already  in  the  place  of  torment.     In  infinite  goodness  and 
condescension,  God  has  instituted  certain  means,  for  your  instruction 
and  reformation.    In  what  manner  these  means  possess  an  inl  uence  on 
the  absolute  determination  of  God,  we  know  not.      But  we  know  the 
facts  of  the  case— We  know,  that  without  the  use  of  the  means— which 
are  as  much  in  our  power  as  any  thing  can  be  in  our  povyer— we  nave 
no  just  ground  to  expect  or  hope  for  the  divine  interposition.     And  on 
the  other  hand,  we  have  reason  to  hope  that  if  we  are  diligent  and  taith- 
ful  in  the  use  of  the  appoinied  means,  and  at  every  step  look  earnestly 
to  God  to  attend  them  with  his  blessing,  to  work  in  them  and  by  them  a 
work  of  saving  grace  on  our  hearts— the  result  will  be  salutary.     INot, 
be  it  remembered,  as  a  matter  of  merit,  or  desert,  but  a  gratuitous  favour 
conferred  on  those  who  are  found  in  the  way,  in  which  he  has  com- 
manded sinners  to  seek  him.     Pervert  not,  therefore,  tne  divine  soye- 
reienty  into  an  argument  for  careless  impenitence,  and  stupid  security 
in  sin.     Use  it  rkther  as  the  most  powerful  motive  to  diligence  and 
care;  lest  you  provoke  God  to  give  you  up  to  strong  delusion  to  beheve 
a  lie    Cry  mightily  to  him  for  his  effectual  aid,  and  endeavour,  without 
delay,  to  cast  yourselves  truly  and  unreservedly  on  his  mercy  in  Christ 
Jesus.     Never  did  he  spurn  from  the  foot  of  his  throne  of  grace,  the 
soul  that  humbly  resolved  to  be  saved  or  to  perish  there. 

In  the  second  place— From  what  has  been  said,  let  us  learn  how  im- 
portant   and    sublime    are  the    discoveries    and  employments    ot   the 
Christian  religion.     The  light  of  the  knowledge  of  the  glory  of  God,  is 
the  object  which  the  gospel  dipensation  reveals,  in  every  renewed  mmd. 
It  leads  to  the  contemplation  of  the  Almighty,  in  all  his  majesty  and 
in  all  his  grace,  as  one  of  the  most  delightful  exercises  of  all  the  true 
disciples  of  Christ.    Is  any  thing  more  worthy  than  this  of  our  rational  • 
nature?     Is  any  subject  of  thought  more  noble,  more  sublime,  more  cal- 
culated to  show  the  moral  elevation  of  the  human  powers.    Deprive  man 
of  his  religious  character,  exercises,  and  hopes,  and  you  condemn  an  im- 
mortal, immaterial  being,  to  the  concerns  of  a  moment,  and  the  mcul- 
P-ences  of  a  brute.  Never  was  there  a  more  unjust  and  groundless  slander, 
than  that  which  the  enemies  of  our  holy  religion  have  sometimes  endea- 
voured to  fix  upon  it,  by  representing  it  as  an  object  suited   only  to 
weak,  superstitious,  and    timid  minds.     What  mdication  is  there  of 
a  weak  and  timid  mind,  in  delighting  in  the  contemplation  of  bound- 
less power,  wisdom,  and  goodness?     What  can  be  more  rational  and 
important,  than  to  discover  the  source  of  all  our  present  and  future 
haopiness?    WMiat  can  be  more  firm  and  magnanimous,  than,  in  conh- 
dence  of  his  love  and  favour,  to  look  up  with  holy  boldness  satisfaction, 
and  pleasure,  to  the  King  of  kings,  and  the  Lord  of  lords?     Or  m  the 
decisive  crisis  of  an  endless  existence,  to   exclaim  m  trmmph^      O 
death  where  is  thy  sting!  O  grave  where  is  thy  victory!- fhanks  be  to 
God  who  giveth  us  the  victory  through  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ.       Well 
might  the  Apostle  say  "if  our  gospel  be  hid,  it  is  hid  to  them  that  are 


48  The  JVature  and  Effects  of  Regeneration* 

lost.'*  Assuredly  men  do  not  slight  or  revile  religion  because  it  wants 
charms,  but  because  they  want  sight  to  perceive,  or  taste  to  relish  them. 
No  sincere  Christian  ever  yet  complained,  that  his  master's  service 
■was  unimportant,  unpleasing,  or  without  reward.  Its  object  is  to 
honour  and  please  the  greatest  and  the  best  of  Beings.  Its  plea- 
sures are  the  purest  and  highest  delights  of  an  immortal  soul.  Its  re- 
ward, is  an  eternity  of  unmixed  and  unsatiating  felicity.  Christians,  I 
appeal  to  your  own  hearts — Which  have  been  the  happiest  moments 
of  your  lives.^  Those  in  which  the  world  has  smiled  most  upon  you?  or 
those  in  which  you  have  had  the  most  intimate  communion  with  your 
God  and  Redeemer.^  I  know  your  answer — I  am  sure,  you  will  tes- 
tify, that  the  pleasures  of  religion  have  rendered  the  smiles  of  the 
world  trifling,  and  its  frowns  contemptible.  Now  to  rest  the  truth  of  any 
position  on  fact  and  experience,  is  to  place  it  on  its  fairest,  and  firmest 
basis.  To  fact  and  experience,  religion  dares  and  wishes  to  appeal,  for 
the  confirmation  of  all  its  pretensions.  Believe  it,  impenitent  sinner, 
as  yet  you  are  ignorant  of  the  noblest  pursuits,  and  the  highest  gra- 
tifications, of  which  your  nature  is  capable.  And  since  your  business, 
Christian  brethren,  is  so  noble,  important,  and  pleasing — "forgetting 
those  things  which  are  behind,  and  reaching  forth  unto  those  things 
which  are  before,  press  toward  the  mark,  for  the  prize  of  the  high  call- 
ing of  God,  in  Christ  Jesus."     For  to  him,  let  us  remember. 

In  the  last  place,  we  are  under  infinite  and  eternal  obligations. — 
Had  not  the  Redeemer  come  in  the  flesh,  vain  would  have  been  all 
our  discoveries  of  the  divine  nature,  even  supposing  that  without  him 
they  might  have  been  perfect.  To  lillle,  or  rather,  to  a  dreadful  pur- 
pose, should  we  have  studied  the  perfections  of  God,  had  the  employ- 
ment, as  it  certainly  would,  only  have  taught  us  the  more  clearly,  that 
they  were  all  engaged  for  our  destruction.  The  light  that  blazes  only 
to  destroy,  may  indeed  possess  its  splendours,  but  it  cannot  be  beheld 
without  dismay  and  horror.  Yet  even  this  wretched  condition  of  ex- 
istence would  not  have  been  ours.  The  god  of  this  world  hath  blinded 
the  eyes  of  the  children  of  men,  and  we  should  have  gone  blindfold  to 
destruction.  If  we  had  amused  ourselves  with  dreams  of  future  happi- 
ness, they  would  all  have  been  founded  on  dark  and  false  conjecture; 
and  the  fire  that  never  shall  be  quenched,  would  have  flashed  truth  and 
torment  together  upon  us.  From  this  dreadful  situation,  Christ  the 
Redeemer,  at  the  expense  of  a  life  of  sorrow  and  a  death  of  agony  and 
infamy,  hath  delivered  our  guilty  race.  To  make  a  return  adequate  to 
so  great  a  favour  lies  not  within  the  limits  of  created  capacity.  Such 
a  return  is  not  required — The  benevolent  interposition  of  God  our  Sa- 
viour, was  intended  to  be  in  every  view  entirely  gratuitous.  All  that 
is  demanded  of  us  is,  by  ardent  gratitude  to  the  bestower,  and  true  and 
steady  obedience  to  the  precepts  he  has  left  us,  to  secure  to  ourselves 
the  benefits  of  his  ineffable  grace.  These  favourable  terms  are,  them- 
selves, new  and  strong  ties  of  obligation.  How  justly  aggravated, 
therefore  v/ill  be  the  condemnation  of  those  "  who  neglect  so  great  sal- 
vation"— Sinner,  blest  with  the  clear  light  of  the  gospel,  remember, 
that  your  lot  is  cast  for  an  extreme.  If  you  perish,  no  middle  region, 
in  the  world  of  wo,  will  be  your  allotment.  By  the  atonement  and  in- 
tercession of  Christ,  a  way  is  opened  to  the  highest  heaven,  or  the 
deepest  hell.  The  one,  or  the  other,  of  these  important  alternatives,  in- 
evitably awaits  us  all.  One  vvould  think  there  need  not  be  any  great 
hesitation  in  making  a  choice — Oh  be  determined,  immediately  "  to 
kiss  the  Son,  lest  he  be  angry,  and  ye  perish  from  the  way." 

To  you,  Christian  brethren,  who  have  already  tasted  that  the  Lord  is 


The  Sin  and  Danger  of  boasting  of  To-morrow,  49 

gracious,  it  would  be  natural  to  conclude  that  nothing  need  be  said,  to 
awaken  a  sense  of  obligation  and  gratitude.  But  alas  I  lamentable  ex- 
perience convinces  us,  that  forgetfulness  and  ingratitude  are  not  pecu- 
liar to  unsanctified  hearts;  although  in  such  hearts  alone,  can  forgetful- 
ness and  ingratitude  become  habitual  and  predominant. — In  the  house 
of  his  friends  the  Saviour  is  often  wounded.  My  brethren,  can  we 
seriously  reflect  on  what  the  Redeemer  of  our  souls  endured  for  us — 
that  he  became  a  man  of  sorrows  and  acquainted  with  grief;  that  he  was 
treated  with  indignity  from  his  birth  till  his  death — from  the  manger 
to  the  cross;  that  he  endured  the  contradictions  of  sinners  and  the  as- 
saults of  the  powers  of  darkness;  that  in  his  agony  he  sweat  great  drops 
of  blood  falling  down  to  the  ground;  that  he  expired  on  a  cross,  for- 
saken by  his  friends,  and  suffering  even  the  hidings  of  his  Father's  face 
— O  can  we  think  of  all  this — of  all  this  endured  for  our  sakes;  and  yet 
act  as  if  we  wished  to  open  his  closed  wounds  anew,  and  to  crucify 
him  afresh  by  our  sins!  What  baseness  inutterable!  What  blushing, 
and  shame,  and  self-abhorrence,  should  we  feel,  when  we  dishonour  our 
Saviour  before  the  world — yea  when  we  think  of  that  want  of  ardent  love 
which  is  known  only  to  him  and  to  ourselves;  of  the  defect  of  that  pu- 
rity of  motive  which  should  characterize  all  our  services;  of  those  imper- 
fections which  cleave  to  all  we  do;  and  of  that  lack  of  holy  zeal,  and  of 
entire  devotedness  in  his  cause  and  service,  of  which  we  must  be  con- 
scious. Let  us  remember  it  is  but  little  that  we  can  do  for  him,  who 
has  done  and  suffered  much  for  us — O  let  not  even  this  little  be  ne- 
glected— But  "  whatsoever  our  hand  findeth  to  do,  let  us  do  it  with 
our  might;"  that  we  may  give  evidence  to  the  surrounding  world,  by 
our  conduct  as  well  as  by  our  profession,  that  "  God  who  commanded 
the  light  to  shine  out  of  darkness,  hath  shined  in  our  hearts,  to  give  us 
the  light  of  the  knowledge  of  the  glory  of  God  in  the  face  of  Jesus 
Christ."     Amen. 


SERMOir. 

THE  SIN  AND  DANGER  OF  BOASTING  OF  TO-MORROW. 

Prov.  xxvii.  1.— "Boast  not  thyself  of  to-morrow;  for  thou  knowest  not  what  a  day 
may  bring  forth." 

The  complaint  has  been  long  and  justly  made,  that  the  conduct  of 
men  is  frequently  in  open  hostility  with  their  reason  and  sense  of  pro- 
priety. It  is  against  an  evil  of  this  description  that  the  text  remon- 
strates. We  all  acknowledge  the  impropriety  and  imprudence  of 
trusting  to  an  uncertain  futurity,  for  that  which  may,  and  ought  to 
be  ensured,  by  present  attention.  Yet,  in  direct  opposition  to  this 
acknowledgment,  and  the  sanction  which  its  truth  and  inriportance  re- 
ceives from  the  constant  experience  of  the  world,  procrastination,  or  de- 
lay, is  a  fault  of  the  most  frequent  occurrence.  Present  reluctance, 
or  the  imaginary  prospect  of  more  favourable  circumstances,  disposes 
the  mind  to  postpone,  till  some  future  period,  the  performance  of  a 
duty  which  now  demands  regard,  and  which  conscience  might  not 
suffer  us  to  neglect,  did  we  not  flatter  ourselves  that  it  might  hereafter 
be  performed  with  more  advantage.  Let  me  then,  possess  your  serious 
attention,  while  I  endeavour,  in  discoursing  on  the  text  before  us — 

I.  To  ascertain,  distinctly,  the  evil  which  it  condemns. 
G 


50  The  Sin  and  Danger  of  boasting  of  To-morrow. 

II.  To  show  how  unreasonable  and  malignant  this  evil  is  in  itself, 
and  how  dangerous  in  its  tendency  and  consequences. 

First,  then,  let  us  endeavour  to  ascertain  distinctly  the  evil  which  the 
text  condemns.  In  doing  this,  it  is  proper  to  begin  with  observing, 
that  it  cannot  be  intended  to  condemn,  indiscriminately,  all  con- 
cern about  the  future  events  of  life,  nor  all  provision  for  meeting  them 
when  they  shall  occur.  Both  reason  and  revelation  are  opposed  to  such 
an  idea.  The  business  which  cannot  be  completed  to-day  must  be  de- 
layed till  to-morrow,  and  we  may  indulge  a  degree  of  concern,  as  well 
as  make  the  necessary  arrangements,  that  it  may  then  be  accomplished. 
In  the  very  chapter  which  contains  the  text,  its  author  tells  us,  that  "  a 
prudent  man  foreseeth  the  evil  and  hideth  himself;  but  the  simple  pass 
on  and  are  punished;"  intimating  plainly  that  there  is  on  the  one  hand, 
a  lawful  and  commendable  anticipation  of  the  occurrences  of  life,  and 
preparation  for  them,  which  is  productive  of  advantage;  and  that,  on 
the  other,  there  is  a  foolish  and  blameable  thoughtlessness  and  impro- 
vidence, the  certain  consequence  of  which  is  inconvenience  and  injury. 
While  this  allowance,  then,  is  fairly  and  fully  conceded,  we  may  recog- 
nise the  evil  after  which  we  inquire  in  the  two  following  particulars; 
First,  in  placing  a  too  confident  dependance  on  futurity  for  the  perform- 
ance of  things  lawful  in  themselves,  and  necessarily  demanding  delay; 
and.  Secondly^  in  placing  any  dependance  at  all  on  the  time  to  come, 
for  that  which  we  ought  immediately  to  perform,  or  attempt,  and 
especially  for  that  which  we  ought  never  to  attempt  or  intend. 

It  has  already  been  intimated,  that  to  provide  for  the  support  and 
comfort  of  ourselves,  and  of  those  who  depend  upon  us,  is  not  only  a 
permitted  but  commanded  duty.  He  who  neglects  to  do  this  is  de- 
clared to  be  "  worse  than  an  infidel."  In  discharging  this  duty,  it  has 
also  been  stated  that  plans  of  future  industry  and  management  must 
be  laid  and  pursued.  But  be  it  now  remembered,  that  these  plans  are 
to  be  concerted  and  executed,  without  that  excessive  anxiety  which  im- 
plies a  distrust  of  providence,  and  a  supreme  devotion  to  worldly  con- 
cerns and  acquisitions.  "Take  no  thought  for  to-morrow,"  says  our 
Saviour, — or  as  it  should  be  rendered — "  be  not  anxious  for  to-morrow, 
for  to-morrow  shall  be  anxious  for  the  things  of  itself;  sufficient  unto 
the  day  is  the  evil  thereof."  But  if  painful  and  distrustful  solicitude 
about  futurity  be  contrary  to  the  spirit  of  the  gospel,  much  more  so  is 
that  confident  and  presumptuous  reliance  upon  it,  which  implicitly 
denies  our  dependance  on  God.  This  is  boasting  of  to-morrow  in  a 
very  impious  manner;  even  though  the  design  v/hich  we  propose  to 
pursue  be  not  unlawful  in  itself.  Hear  how  pointedly  this  presumption 
is  condemned  by  the  Apostle  James — "  Go  to  now,  ye  that  say  to-day, 
or  to-morrow,  we  will  go  into  such  a  city,  and  continue  there  a  year, 
and  buy  and  sell  and  ^ti  gain; — whereas  ye  know  not  what  shall  be  on 
the  morrow:  For  what  is  your  life.^  It  is  even  a  vapour,  that  appeareth 
for  a  little  time  and  then  vanisheth  away.  For  that  ye  ought  to  say, 
if  the  Lord  will,  we  shall  live,  and  do  this  or  that.  But  now  ye  rejoice  in 
your  boastings;  all  such  rejoicing  is  evil."  We  see  then  that  the  offence 
condemned  in  the  text,  is  committed  by  those  who,  in  contemplating 
and  planning  even  the  necessary  occupations  and  pursuits  of  life,  do 
not  keep  in  mind  that  they  may  die  before  their  purposes  are  accom- 
plished; that  they  are  constantly  and  absolutely  in  the  hand  of  God, — 
entirely  dependant  on  his  sovereign  will,  not  only  for  the  prosperity  of 
their  schemes,  but  for  the  continuance  of  life  itself. 

2.  But  the  evil  we  are  seeking  to  ascertain  is  chargeable,  in  its  high- 


'llie  Sin  and  Danger  of  boasting  of  To-morrow.  51 

est  degree,  on  those  who  place  any  dependance  at  all  on  the  time  to 
come,  for  the  doing  of  that  which  they  ought  immediately  to  perform 
or  attempt;  and  especially  for  doing  that  which  they  ought  never  to 
attempt  or  intend.  The  author  of  our  text  elsewhere  admonishes  us 
in  these  words — "  Whatsoever  thy  hand  findeth  to  do,  do  it  with  thy 
might,  for  there  is  no  work,  nor  knowledge,  nor  device,  nor  wisdom,  in 
the  grave  whither  thou  goest."  We  are  here  reminded,  that  as  life  is 
utterly  uncertain,  we  can  have  no  assurance  that  duty  neglected  or  de- 
layed, shall  ever  be  performed.  Whenever,  therefore,  it  calls  for  dis- 
charge, and  we  do  not  immediately  set  about  it,  w^e  give  up  a  certainty 
for  an  uncertainty;  we  risk  the  danger  of  final  delinquency,  with  all  its 
endless  train  of  unhappy  consequences — In  every  such  neglect  or  delay 
then,  (as  we  cannot  be  supposed  to  intend  our  own  injury)  we  boast  of 
to-morrow.  We  arrogantly  challenge  and  count  upon  it  as  a  certainty; 
we  act  upon  it  as  a  matter  of  which  we  have  the  possession  and  dis- 
posal. 

But  especially,  when  the  things  which  we  purpose  to  do  at  a  future 
time  are  things  unlawful  in  themselves,  and  which,  consequently,  we 
ought  never  to  do  or  to  intend,  this  boasting  reaches  its  ultimate  point 
of  criminality.  It  is,  at  once,  to  claim  to-morrow  as  our  own,  and  to 
appropriate  it  to  a  service  worse  than  neglect  itself.  This  leads  us  to 
consider  the  high  concern  to  which  the  text  chiefly  and  immediately 
points,  and  which  is,  undoubtedly,  the  salvation  of  the  soul — To  this, 
therefore,  our  attention  shall  be  confined  through  the  remainder  of  the 
present  discourse.  In  this  most  interesting  business  of  human  life — the 
care  of  the  soul — men  boast  of  to-morrow  in  the  manner  just  pointed 
out.  The  call  and  command  of  God,  constituting  their  duty,  with  all 
its  solemn  sanctions,  is — "  To-day  if  ye  will  hear  my  voice,  harden  not 
your  hearts" — That  is,  "To-day  lay  most  seriously  to  heart  the  situa- 
tion in  which  you  are  placed,  while  enemies  to  me  by  wicked  works. 
To-day  resolve,  in  reliance  on  divine  grace,  that  you  will  break  off 
your  sins  by  repentance,  and  that  you  will  make  it  your  great  and  prin- 
cipal concern,  to  secure  a  saving  interest  in  Jesus  Christ.  Resolve  de- 
terminately  to-day,  that  this  all-important  business  shall  no  longer  be 
delayed;  but  that  it  shall  occupy  the  most  serious  and  engaged  atten- 
tion of  your  minds,  till  it  be  satisfactorily  accomplished — till  you  have 
good  evidence  that,  by  the  renovation  of  your  nature,  manifested  by  a 
true  faith  in  the  Redeemer's  merits,  and  a  life  of  cordial  holy  obe- 
dience to  all  his  requisitions,  you  be  truly  reconciled  to  your  of- 
fended God."  "  No — no," — replies  the  practice  of  every  delaying  sin- 
ner— ^"To-morrow — a  far  distant  to-morrow,  shall  be  the  period  of 
obedience  to  this  call.  A  considerable  space  I  must  yet  spend  in  pur- 
suing the  devices  of  my  own  heart.  But  when  I  have  spent  it,  then  I 
will  yield  to  the  command;  then,  assuredly,  I  will  embrace  the  offered 
mercy;  then,  without  doubt,  I  will  avail  myself  of  the  benefits  of  the 
Redeemer's  purchase."  Is  not  this  impiously  boasting  of  to-morrow? 
first  to  continue  in  sin,  which  ought  never  to  be  intended,  and  finally 
to  obtain  salvation,  when  the  opportunity  for  it  may  be  past  forever. 
But  I  am  anticipating — 

II.  The  second  division  of  the  subject — where  we  are  to  consider 
distinctly,  how  unreasonable  and  malignant  is  the  offence  we  contem- 
plate, and  how  dangerous  in  its  tendency  and  consequences.  This,  I 
apprehend,  may  best  be  effected,  by  showing  more  particularly  and 
fully  than  has  yet  been  done — 1.  That  when  sinners  boast  themselves 
of  to-morrow,'  they  act  in  a  manner  highly  impious,  inasmuch  as  they 


52  The  Sin  and  Danger  of  boasting  of  To-morrow. 

assume  to  themselves  the  prerogative  of  God,  at  the  very  time  that 
they  presume  on  his  indulgence  or  forbearance:  2.  That  it  is  immi- 
nently dangerous,  because  the  time  may  never  arrive,  at  which  they 
even  purpose  to  begin  a  serious  attention  to  their  souls:  3.  Because,  if 
this  time  actually  arrives,  it  is  probable  they  will  not  be  more,  but  less, 
disposed  to  enter  on  this  important  business  then,  than  now:  4.  And 
finally,  because  delay  grieves  the  Spirit  of  grace,  and  may  provoke  him 
to  withhold  from  them  at  last,  those  aids  which  are  essential  to  repent- 
ance and  reformation. 

My  brethren — The  nature  of  this  subject  seems  to  demand  that  doc- 
trine should  be  mingled  with,  and  not  separated  from,  enforcement  and 
exhortation— This  method,  therefore,  will  be  adopted  in  very  shortly 
illustrating  the  particulars  I  have  specified;  and  you  must  expect  me 
to  address  myself  as  directly  and  pointedly  as  possible,  to  those  who 
are  concerned  in  the  subject. 

First,  then,  boasting  of  to-morrow  is  highly  impious,  because  it  is  an 
assumption  of  the  prerogative  of  God,  at  the  same  time  that  it  is  a  pre- 
sumption on  his  patience  or  forbearance.  The  full  and  absolute  know- 
ledge of  futurity  is  possessed  by  God  alone.  To  his  creatnres  he  has, 
indeed,  revealed  it  on  some  occasions,  and  in  a  partial  and  limited  man- 
ner, in  the  execution  of  his  purposes  of  wisdom  and  goodness.  But  to 
none  of  his  creatures,  not  even  to  the  highest  angel,  hath  he  given 
the  capacity  or  the  privilege  of  discerning,  indiscriminately,  the  events 
which  are  slumbering  in  the  womb  of  time.  We  are  told  expressly 
that — "  Of  that  day  and  that  hour  knoweth  no  man,  no,  not  the  angels 
which  are  in  heaven,  neither  the  Son,  but  the  Father."  When,  there- 
fore, we  assuredly  rely  on  the  future  for  the  performance  of  a  duty  or 
a  business,  do  we  not,  by  assuming  that  future  as  a  certainty,  practi- 
cally usurp  to  ourselves  this  right  of  omniscience?  Do  we  not  act  as 
if  we  saw  with  certainty,  that  it  would  then  be  in  our  power  to  perform 
what,  in  our  own  minds,  we  thus  engage.^  Deceive  not  yourselves,  my 
hearers.  Is  there  one  amongst  you  who  does  not  intend  to  secure  the 
salvation  of  his  soul?  Where  is  the  person  who  will  say  he  does  not 
even  intend  it?  Not  one  will  do  it — and  yet  there  are  many — I  appeal 
to  your  consciences — there  are  many,  who  depend  on  carrying  this  in- 
tention into  effect,  on  the  morrow;  on  the  next  year;  at  that  period 
of  their  lives,  be  it  when  it  may,  which  they  fancy  will  be  more  favour- 
able to  their  designs  than  the  present.  What  is  this  but  assuming  that 
period  to  yourselves  as  a  certainty?  Do  you  not  verily  challenge  it  as 
your  own,  by  setting  it  apart  to  the  execution  of  the  most  important 
purpose  of  your  whole  lives?  Would  you  throw  into  it  the  decision  of 
your  everlasting  destiny,  if  you  did  not  assume  it  as  a  certainty?  Dis- 
guise it  as  you  will,  and  delude  yourselves  as  you  may,  the  very  lan- 
guage of  your  conduct  and  your  heart,  is  all  in  the  style  of  this  offen- 
sive arrogance.  In  this  very  manner  it  impeaches  the  exclusive  right 
of  God  to  know  and  to  dispose  of  the  events  of  futurity.  Not  that  the 
reason  or  conscience  of  any  man  will,  when  consulted,  justify  or  en- 
dure such  language.  But  on  this  account  the  criminality  is  the  greater. 
Reason  and  conscience  testify,  at  once,  that  it  is,  in  the  last  degree, 
absurd  and  wicked  thus  to  act.  They  testify  that  you  most  grossly 
trifle,  and  most  impiously  presume,  in  thus  hazarding  your  eternal  all. 
They  testify  that  you  add  provocation  to  presumption,  when  you  make 
the  expectation  of  living,  an  encouragement  to  continue  in  sin.  Let 
me  reinforce  the  dictates  of  reason  and  conscience,  by  a  plain  illustra- 
tion of  this  impiety.     Suppose  that  a  number  of  men  in  civil  society 


21ie  Sin  and  Danger  of  boasting  of  To-morrow,  5S 

should  rebelliously  wrest  from  their  sovereign  a  portion  of  his  prero- 
gativej  and  not  content  with  this,  should  then  actively  employ  what 
they  had  insolently  taken,  in  giving  the  most  deliberate  provocation  to 
him  to  whom  they  owed  allegiance.  What  would  you  say?  what  do 
you  say,  in  such  a  case?  You  say  every  thing  that  can  express  your 
sense  of  the  daring  character  of  such  guilt.  But  impenitent  and  delaying 
sinners  act  this  very  part  to  the  Sovereign  of  the  universe.  The  fact 
has  been  clearly  shown.  I  beseech  you  to  view  and  detest  its  baseness, 
to  fear  and  dread  its  consequences,  and  to  secure  yourselves  against  its 
danger,  by  making  the  forbearance  and  goodness  of  God  an  argument 
to  lead  you  to  immediate  repentance,  rather  than  the  ground  of  har- 
dening yourselves  against  him:  For  be  it  deeply  impressed  on  your 
minds — 

2.  That  delay  is  unspeakably  dangerous,  not  only  for  the  reason  al- 
ready assigned,  but  because  the  time  may  never  arrive,  at  which  you 
even  propose  to  begin  a  serious  attention  to  the  eternal  welfare  of  your 
souls.  What  force  is  given  to  this  remark  by  the  considerations  al- 
ready suggested?  How  very  probable  is  it  that  the  God  whose  pa- 
tience and  grace  you  are  so  awfully  abusing,  will  not  spare  you  to  the 
time  which  you  have  appointed  to  seek  his  favour;  will  not  suffer  an 
encouragement  to  such  wickedness  to  be  given  to  others,  by  permitting 
its  plans,  in  any  instance,  to  be  realised.  Remember  the  case  of  the 
worldling  and  sensualist,  whose  destiny  is  described  by  our  blessed  Sa- 
viour. While  this  miserable  sinner  was  pleasing  himself  with  the 
prospect  of  unhallowed  pleasure,  for  a  long  time  to  come,  the  awful  de- 
claration was  made — "  this  night  thy  soul  shall  be  required  of  thee." 
And  has  not  the  intention  of  this  scriptural  example  been  enforced  upon 
you,  by  what  you  have  seen  with  your  own  eyes?  How  many  have  you 
known  whose  period  of  years,  whose  vigour  of  constitution,  and  whose 
precautions  against  danger,  were  as  flattering  as  your  own,  who  have 
been  swept  away  by  the  sudden  stroke  of  death.  Without  apprehen- 
sion— with  all  their  fears  drowned  in  the  tide  of  "  superfluous  health'* 
— perhaps  they  were  rioting,  in  imagination,  on  the  luxury  of  unlaw- 
ful pleasure  which  to-morrow  was  to  bring  to  their  embrace,  when 
the  chilling  hand  of  death  was  laid  upon  them,  and  the  opening  buds 
of  sensual  enjoyment  were  blasted  forever.  If  such  awful  instances  as 
these  do  not  prove  a  warning  to  those  who  observe  them,  verily  they 
have  reason  to  fear  that  they  themselves  shall  next  be  cut  off,  with  a 
sudden  destruction. 

But  alas!  presumption,  with  many,  is  not  satisfied  with  asking  for 
to-morrow;  if  by  this  we  understand  a  short  period,  to  be  devoted  to 
impenitence.  It  is  not  till  years  shall  have  rolled  away  in  the  indul- 
gence of  their  lusts,  that  they  have  fixed  the  time,  even  in  imagination, 
when  they  will  listen  to  the  invitations  and  accept  the  offers  of  divine 
mercy.  Often,  indeed,  the  time  is  so  distant,  that  if  a  worldly  concern 
of  any  moment  were  to  depend  on  their  continuance  in  life  to  the  pro- 
posed age,  its  insurance  would  be  at  the  highest  price.  Often  it  is  the 
hour  of  sickness  and  distress,  which  is  to  furnish  the  occasion  for  re- 
flection and  repentance.  Very  often,  it  is  delayed  till  a  more  easy  and 
comfortable  state  of  their  worldly  affairs  shall  afford  them  more  leisure 
to  set  about  it — Inconsistent  mortals!  hear  me,  I  beseech  you.  Would 
you  defer  till  a  far  distant  period  the  securing  of  a  rich  inheritance, 
which  you  might  now  make  your  own?  If  persuaded  to  such  a  delay, 
would  you  not  immediately  suspect  that  he  who  persuaded  you  was 
desirous  that  you  should  never  possess  it?     Would  you  not  instantly 


54  The  Sin  and  Danger  of  boasting  of  To-morrow, 

answer  him,  that  the  risk  was  too  great  to  be  hazarded  on  any  terms, 
but  that  it  would  be  folly  in  the  abstract,  to  endanger  so  valuable  a  pos- 
session, when  it  might  as  well  be  made  secure.  In  this  example,  then,  see 
a  faint  picture  of  your  folly.  An  unfading  inheritance,  an  eternal  weight 
of  glory,  is  actually  now  offered  to  your  acceptance:  and  yet  you  will 
risk  the  final  loss  of  it,  for  years  on  years  to  come,  rather  than  secure 
it  by  present  attention.  Oh  why  will  you  venture  thus!  Why  will  you 
be  wise  in  the  fading  enjoyments  of  time,  and  yet  exercise  no  prudence 
or  care,  in  relation  to  the  infinite  felicities  of  eternity?  Why  will  you 
suspect  a  man  when  he  tempts  you  to  injure  your  temporal  interests, 
and  why  will  you  not  suspect  the  adversary  of  your  immortal  souls, 
when  he  tempts  you  to  put  them  to  the  most  awful  hazard? 

Is  it  in  sickness  that  you  propose  to  attend  to  this  great  concern? 
And  do  you  believe  that  it  is  a  favourable  season  for  the  mind  to  be 
employed  on  the  most  important  of  all  subjects,  involving  the  destinies 
of  eternity,  when  the  body  is  racked  and  tortured  with  disease?  Or 
what  assurance  have  you,  that  even  the  use  of  your  reason  will  be  left 
you  then  ?  How  numerous  are  the  instances  in  which  danger  is  not 
suspected,  or,  if  foreseen  by  others,  is  concealed  from  the  sick,  till,  by 
delirium  or  stupor,  it  becomes  utterly  impossible  to  make  the  least 
preparation  for  death:  and  will  you  hazard  eternal  happiness  or  misery 
on  such  unpromising  chances  as  these?  It  is  an  infatuation,  this,  which 
forbids  us  to  reason  with  those  who  practise  it.  Suppose  at  once,  the 
veil  to  be  lifted,  which  covers  eternity  from  mortal  eyes.  Look  into 
the  mansions  of  hopeless  misery.  Ask  there — what  has  peopled  those 
dreadful  abodes?  Scarcely  one  despairing  ghost  that  descended  thither 
from  under  the  light  of  the  gospel,  but  will  tell  you,  that  he  intended, 
as  you  do  now,  to  escape  that  place  of  torment.  But  before  he  had 
reached  the  period,  or  found  the  promised  circumstances  for  repent- 
ance, his  eternal,  hopeless  destiny,  was  fixed  by  death:  And  will  you, 
now,  travel  the  same  path  that  has  led  those  who  thus  warn  you,  to 
endless  perdition!  God  forbid  it!  Heaven  and  hell  forbid  it!  Im- 
prove the  present  hour.  Begin  to  cry  to  God  from  those  very  seats 
on  which  you  now  sit;  and  never  cease  to  cry,  till  you  have  escaped 
the  danger  that  awaits  you — Be  farther  urged  to  this, 

3.  By  considering,  that  if  the  time  to  which  you  have  postponed  an 
attention  to  your  eternal  concerns  shall  actually  arrive,  it  is  not  proba- 
ble you  will  be  more,  but  less,  disposed  to  regard  them  seriously  the?i, 
than  now.  If  experience  has  left  any  thing  incontestable,  it  is,  that  all 
habits  strengthen  by  indulgence,  and  that  every  escape  from  danger 
hardens  the  mind  against  it.  These  principles  apply  with  as  much 
force  to  religion,  as  to  any  other  subject.  Hear  them  recognised 
in  the  following  strong  terms,  from  the  oracles  of  unerring  truth. 
"Can  the  Ethiopian  change  his  skin,  or  the  leopard  his  spots,  then 
may  ye,  also,  do  good,  that  are  accustomed  to  do  evil — Because  sen- 
tence against  an  evil  work  is  not  executed  speedily,  therefore  the  heart 
of  the  sons  of  men  is  fully  set  in  them  to  do  evil."  The  representation 
here  is,  that  the  habits  of  sin  strike  such  a  deep  shade  of  darkness 
through  the  whole  texture  of  the  soul,  as  to  render  it  all  but  impossi- 
ble that  it  ever  should  be  purified;  and  that  the  divine  forbearance  it- 
self, which  affords  time  for  reformation,  is  generally  perverted  into  an 
encouragement  to  offend  with  the  more  daring  obstinacy.  We  know, 
indeed,  that  the  power  and  grace  of  God  are  competent  to  cleanse  the 
most  polluted  spirit,  and  to  reclaim  the  most  daring  rebel.  But  we 
know,  also,  that  they  are  not  often  employed  for  this  purpose — only 


The  Sin  and  Danger  of  boasting  of  To-morrow,  55 

often  enough  to  preserve  a  penitent  prodigal  from  absolute  despair. 
In  the  spiritual,  as  in  the  material  or  natural  world,  the  general  system 
of  operation  is  conformed  to  what  is  called  the  order  of  nature — which 
is  God's  order.  Youth  is  the  season  for  forming  and  furnishing  the 
mind,  maturer  age  for  confirming  it  by  experience,  and  fixing  it  by 
habit.  That  this  holds  in  religion,  as  in  every  thing  else,  all  observa- 
tion demonstrates.  He  who  passes  youth  and  middle  age  without  re- 
ligion, is  likely  to  pass  through  life,  and  into  eternity,  without  it. 
Those,  then,  who  are  now  in  youth,  have,  at  this  hour,  the  most  fa- 
vourable period  for  attending  to  their  souls,  that  they  will  probably 
ever  have.  In  like  manner,  those  who  are  advancing,  or  who  have 
considerably,  or  even  greatly  advanced  into  life,  have,  at  the  present 
instant,  an  opportunity  the  most  conducive  to  success,  that  their  past 
negligence  has  left  within  their  power.  Every  step  they  go  forward, 
they  are  rendering  their  situation  still  worse  and  worse.  The  very 
point  on  which  they  are  standing,  is  the  point  from  which,  with  the 
most  advantage,  they  may  start,  if  they  ever  mean  to  start,  in  the 
Christian  race.  That  at  any  future  time,  after  certain  circumstances 
are  arranged  to  their  mind,  they  will  be  more  disposed  to  this  great 
concern,  is  all  a  delusion — a  delusion  which  all  experience,  which  hu- 
man nature  itself,  cries  out  against.  It  cries — "  You  will  be  less  dis- 
posed then  than  now;  now,  therefore,  attend  to  your  souls,  if  you  do 
not  intend  to  lose  them  forever."  An  additional  reason  for  this  I  am 
now  to  assign,  in  the  last  place — 

4.  Namely,  that  delay  grieves  the  Spirit  of  grace,  and  may  provoke 
him  to  withhold  from  you,  at  last,  those  aids  which  are  essential  to  re- 
pentance and  reformation.  That  there  is  such  a  thing  as  outliving  the 
day  of  grace,  must  be  allowed  by  all  who  admit  the  authority  of  divine 
revelation.  The  scripture  speaks  of  some  who  seek  admittance  when 
"the  door  is  shut;"  of  some  who  are  "  given  over  to  a  reprobate  mind;" 
of  some  to  whom  "  strong  delusions  are  sent" — But  listen,  in  particu- 
lar, to  the  following  terrible  representation.  "Because  I  have  called 
and  ye  refused,  I  have  stretched  out  my  hand  and  no  man  regarded: 
But  ye  have  set  at  nought  all  my  counsel  and  would  none  of  my  reproof; 
I  also  will  laugh  at  your  calamity  and  mock  when  your  fear  cometh: 
When  your  fear  cometh  as  desolation,  and  your  destruction  cometh  as 
a  whirlwind,  when  distress  and  anguish  cometh  upon  you.  Then  shall 
they  call  upon  me,  but  I  will  not  answer;  they  shall  seek  me  early,  but 
they  shall  not  find  me:  For  that  they  hated  knowledge,  and  did  not 
choose  the  fear  of  the  Lord:  They  would  none  of  my  counsel,  they 
despised  all  my  reproof;  therefore  shall  they  eat  of  the  fruit  of  their 
own  way,  and  be  filled  with  their  own  devices."  Instances  of  the  kind 
here  described,  where  sinners  are  brought  to  a  sense  of  their  danger 
when  it  is  too  late  to  escape  it,  are  often,  and  perhaps  only  seen,  in  that 
very  place — on  that  very  bed  of  disease  and  death — where  they  had 
presumptuously  flattered  themselves  they  should  not  fail  of  making 
their  peace  with  God.  Brought  to  the  burning  verge  of  eternity,  they 
have  found  that  they  could  not  command  divine  aid  at  their  own  plea- 
sure; they  have  found  it  refused  them;  their  eyes  have  opened  on  their 
danger  just  time  enough  to  leave  an  awful  warning  to  others,  but  too 
late  to  escape  it  themselves.  But  generally,  and  perhaps  always,  ex- 
cept in  such  cases  as  I  have  just  mentioned,  when  the  strivings  of 
God's  Spirit  are  finally  withdrawn,  the  unhappy  subjects  of  the  derelic- 
tion remain  insensible  to  the  last.  Do  you  ask  for  examples  of  this? 
I  fear  you  may  see  them  very  frequently,  in  persons  who  were  once, 


56        In  Benevolent  Contributions  we  serve  God  with  his  own, 

and  perhaps  long  or  often,  impressed  with  a  serious  concern  for  their 
souls;  but  by  neglect,  by  carelessness,  by  delay,  they  lost  their  impres- 
sions; became  first  cold,  then  indifferent,  then  hard  as  the  nether  mill- 
stone, and  remained  so  to  their  dying  hour.  Certain  it  is,  that  the 
Spirit  of  grace  was  once  working  on  the  hearts  of  these  unhappy  crea- 
tures; and  equally  certain  is  it  (so  far  as  we  can  judge)  that  he  after- 
wards deserted  and  left  them  forever. 

But  perhaps  some  will  be  ready  to  turn  this  argument  against  the 
speaker,  and  say — "  How  can  we  know  but  that  the  Spirit  of  grace  has 
deserted  us  already;  and  if  he  has,  vain  will  be  all  our  exertions,  and 
fruitless  all  our  anxiety" — I  answer,  God  only  knows  whether  some  to 
whom  I  am  speaking,  may  not  actually  be  among  the  number  of  those 
who  are  given  up  to  judicial  hardness.  Those  are  the  most  likely  to 
be  so,  who  can  hear  this  subject  discussed  without  anxiety  and  alarm. 
But  those  whose  minds  are  tenderly  affected  with  what  they  hear*— 
those  who  are  ready  to  say,  "we  would  now  delay  no  longer, if  we  may 
hope  for  divine  assistance" — all  such  have  an  evidence,  in  their  present 
feeling,  that  they  are  not  yet  finally  deserted;  for  if  they  were,  they 
would  not  be  likely  to  experience  this  sensation.  What  they  now  feel 
they  should  consider  as  one  more  call  from  the  Spirit  of  grace,  to  delay 
no  longer:  and  if  the  emotion  now  felt,  shall  not  be  suppressed  and  lost— 
if  it  shall  be  indulged,  cherished,  and  pursued — there  is  reason  to  hope 
for  the  most  salutary  event.  But  while  I  say  this,  I  must  solemnly  warn 
you,  that  if  you  extinguish  your  present  convictions,  or  refuse  the  pre- 
sent admonitions,  you  will  greatly  increase  the  danger  that  your  day  of 
grace  may  be  over,  even  though  your  life  should  be  prolonged.  Here, 
then,  having  pursued  the  deceitful  heart  through  many  of  its  windings, 
and  shown,  as  far  as  reason  or  Scripture  can  show  it,  the  danger  of  all  its 
pretences — here  I  close  my  address.  I  close  it  with  offering  you,  on  the 
authority  of  God's  word,  life  and  eternal  salvation,  if  you  to-day  repent 
of  your  sins,  and  cast  your  guilty  souls  into  the  arms  of  Jesus  Christ. 
To-day,  if  you  do  this,  salvation  is  yours;  though  your  past  transgres- 
sions be  as  crimson  or  as  scarlet.  But  if  you  boast  of  to-morrow — wit- 
ness against  yourselves — I  tell  you  that  you  are  likely  to  perish.  I  tell 
you  the  probability  is  against  you.  I  tell  you  there  is  every  reason  to 
iear,  that  the  pretences  which  have  so  long  deceived  you,  will  deceive 
you  to  the  last.  May  God  dispose  you,  "while  yet  it  is  called  to-day,*' 
to  turn  and  live.    Amen. 


A  CHiUlIT'S'  SERMOir. 

IN  BENEVOLENT  CONTRIBUTIONS  WE  SERVE  GOD  WITH  HIS  OWN. 

1  Chron.  xxix.  14,  last  clause. — The  whole  verse  is  thus — "  But  who  am  I,  and 
what  is  my  people,  that  we  should  be  able  to  offer  so  willingly  after  this  sort  ? — for  all 
things  come  of  thee,  and  of  thine  own  have  we  given  thee." 

These  are  the  words  of  David,  king  of  Israel,  "  the  man  after  God's 
own  heart."  He  had  purposed  to  build  the  temple  of  Jehovah  at  Jeru- 
salem, that  the  ark  of  his  covenant  might  no  longer  abide  in  a  tent, 
but  occupy  a  permanent  place  of  deposit; — a  structure  which,  by 
its  magnificence  and  costliness,  might  be  a  standing  and  striking 
monument  of  the  devotion  of  the  nation  to  Jehovah  the  God  of  Israel; 
and  by  its  spaciousness  and  accommodations,  might  [enable  both  the 


In  Benevolent  Contributions  we  serve  God  with  his  own.         57 

priests  and  the  people  to  perform  the  service  of  the  sanctuary  in  the 
most  perfect  and  agreeable  manner.  This  was  a  work  which,  for  a 
long  time,  lay  near  the  heart  of  David.  He  Avas  commended  of 
God  "in  that  he  had  it  in  his  heart,"  but  was  expressly  forbidden  to 
carry  it  into  effect  himself;  and  as  expressly  commanded  to  commit  it 
to  his  son  and  successor  Solomon.  David — possessing  a  temper  whol- 
ly unlike  what  we  sometimes  witness  in  zealous  men,  who  seem  to  be 
but  little  desirous  that  good  should  be  done,  if  it  be  not  done  by  them- 
selves— David  determined  that  if  he  could  not  be  a  principal  and  con- 
spicuous agent  in  this  business,  he  would,  at  least,  be  an  humble  under- 
workman — If  he  might  not  be  permitted  to  build  the  house,  he  would 
employ  himself  in  gathering  and  preparing  the  materials.  In  this  em- 
ployment, accordingly,  he  engaged  with  activity  and  effect.  Having 
made  many  preparations,  for  a  length  of  time,  when  he  drew  toward 
the  close  of  life,  he  completed  them  by  a  great  and  noble  effort.  He 
assembled  together  all  the  men  of  rank,  authority,  influence  and 
wealth,  in  his  kingdom;  made  to  them  a  solemn  and  affecting  address 
on  the  subject;  and  charged  Solomon  in  their  presence  to  go  forward 
with  the  work,  and  them  to  assist  him  in  it.  But  he  did  not  content 
himself  with  making  a  persuasive  and  pious  speech.  He  set  them  an 
example  of  munificence,  by  giving  of  his  own  private  property  three 
thousand  talents  of  gold,  and  seven  thousand  talents  of  refined  silver. 
This  example  had — what  such  examples  will  usually  have — a  very 
powerful  eftect.  All  who  beheld  it  seemed  to  catch  the  spirit  of  libe- 
rality; and  donations  to  a  surprising  amount  were  freely  and  cheer- 
fully made.  The  heart  of  the  good  old  monarch  appears  to  have  been 
so  gladdened  and  melted  by  this  event,  that  he  could  not  restrain  his 
emotions.  He  broke  forth  into  solemn  thanksgiving  to  God,  before 
the  august  assembly.  And  here  his  humility  was  as  remarkable,  as  his 
liberality  had  been  great.  He  arrogated  no  praise  to  himself,  nor  be- 
stowed any  on  the  other  donors,  for  what  had  been  done.  He  ascribed 
it  all  to  God,  who  had  first  enabled  and  then  disposed  them,  to  make 
these  offerings — "  Who" — says  he  in  the  text — "  Who  am  I,  and  what 
is  my  people,  that  we  should  be  able  to  offer  so  willingly  after  this 
sort.^^ — for  all  things  come  of  thee,  and  of  thine  own  have  we  given 
thee."  Happy  they,  who  do  acts  of  liberality  with  such  a  spirit,  and 
afterwards  review  them  with  such  a  temper!  "All  things  come  of 
thee,  and  of  thine  own  have  we  given  thee"— -In  farther  discoursing  on 
these  words — the  original  occasion  of  which  has  been  explained — I 
shall  endeavour — 

I.  To  illustrate  the  truth  asserted  in  the  text,  that  "  all  things  come 
of  God,"  and  consequently  that  we  serve  him  "  with  his  own,"  when 
we  employ  his  gifts  in  doing  what  he  requires. 

II.  Deduce  from  the  truth  illustrated,  a  number  of  practical  and  im- 
portant inferences. 

First,  then,  I  am  to  illustrate  the  truth  that  "  all  things  come  of 
God,"  and  consequently  that  we  serve  him  with  his  own,  when  we 
employ  his  gifts  in  doing  what  he  requires. 

My  brethren — The  assertion  in  the  text  that  "  all  things  come  of 
God,"  needs  no  other  limitation  or  qualification  to  render  it  a  truth  in 
the  full  extent  and  meaning  of  the  terms,  than  that  we  should  under- 
stand that  only  all  good  things  are  here  spoken  off  and  this  will  be  im- 
mediately perceived  to  have  been  the  understanding  of  him  who  used 
the  words,  by  any  one  who  considers  their  connexion  or  design.  It 
would,  therefore,  be  a  doctrine,  true  in  itself,  and  capable  of  the  fuU- 
H 


58         In  Benevolent  Contributions  we  serve  God  with  his  own. 

est  proof  both  from  reason  and  Scripture,  to  maintain  that  not  only 
all  our  earthly  possessions,  but  all  our  intellectual  endowments  and 
improvements,  all  our  moral  dispositions  and  habits,  and  every  incli- 
nation that  we  ever  feel,  either  to  serve  God  acceptably,  or  to  do  good 
to  men,  are  really  and  strictly  of  him  "from  whom  cometh  down 
every  good  and  every  perfect  gift:"  and  therefore  that  in  the  employ- 
ment or  exercise  of  any  of  tliese  things,  we  do  no  more  than  serve  our 
Maker  with  a  part  of  his  own  bounty.  As  this,  however,  is  a  doctrine 
too  extensive  in  its  nature  to  be  suitably  handled  in  a  single  discourse, 
as  well  as  somewhat  beside  the  immediate  purpose  for  which  I  now 
address  you,  so  it  is  not,  I  think,  the  doctrine  which  the  text  was  spe- 
cially designed  to  teach.  When  David  says  in  the  text — "  All  things 
come  of  thee,  and  of  thine  own  have  we  given  thee,"  there  can  be  no 
doubt  that  he  directly  refers  to  that  worldly  affluence,  wealth  or  pro- 
perty, which  he  and  others  possessed,  and  which  had  enabled  them  to 
make  such  costly  offerings  to  the  Lord. — In  this  limited  view,  there- 
fore, I  shall  at  present  treat  the  subject;  and  I  do  this  the  more  will- 
ingly, because  I  believe  that  this  is  a  view  of  the  subject  which,  al- 
though by  no  means  unimportant  in  itself,  or  perplexed  in  its  nature, 
yet  is  too  seldom  taken,  even  by  serious  persons.  They  are  ready  to 
allow  that  divine  grace  h  the  gift  of  God,  and  that  singular  dispensa- 
tions of  Providence  come  immediately  from  his  hand.  But  in  regard 
to  their  ivorldly  siibsfance,  perhaps  gradually  ac<iuired,  and  in  the  ac- 
quisition of  which  their  contrivance  and  management,  their  laborious 
efforts  and  persevering  industry,  have  been  constantly  exerted,  they 
are  not  so  sensible  of  the  truth.  They  do  not  at  least,  so  deeply  and 
constantly  realize  that  whatever  they  possess  in  this  way,  cometh  as 
truly  of  God  as  if  he  had  given  it  to  them  by  the  most  remarkable 
and  extraordinary  dispensation  of  providence;  and  of  course,  that 
when  they  use  it  in  his  service,  they  do  no  more  than  serve  him  with 
his  own.  This,  therefore,  is  the  point  which  seems  to  call  for  our 
special  attention,  and  which  we  are  particularly  to  regard  on  this  oc- 
casion:— And  yet,  my  brethren,  when  we  distinctly  fix  our  attention 
on  it,  we  shall  find  it,  as  already  hinted,  a  matter  of  great  plainness, 
in  regard  to  which  the  mind  does  not  so  much  need  conviction  or  ar- 
gument, as  to  be  refreshed  with  truths  which  have  slipt  from  its  recol- 
lection, and  to  which  it  is  prepared  to  assent  as  soon  as  they  are  again 
distinctly  presented  to  its  view.  In  a  word,  the  doctrine  before  us  is 
nothing  else  than  the  doctrine  of  a  particular  providence,  applied  to  a 
specific  point  or  suijject. 

Lei  us  suppose,  in  the  first  place,  that  a  competent,  or  a  liberal,  or  a 
profuse  measure  of  worldly  wealth  is  possessed,  as  an  inheritance 
from  parents,  ancestors,  or  friends:  and  then  we  ask — who  was  it  that 
enabled  those  parents,  ancestors,  or  friends,  to  acquire  that  wealth  at 
first?  and  who  disposed  them,  after  it  was  acquired,  to  give  it  to  you 
as  your  inheritance.^  How  many  instances  have  you  seen,  of  persons 
who  once  had  the  power,  the  prospect,  and  the  expectation  of  be- 
queathing riches  and  independence  to  their  posterity,  or  their  friends, 
who  have,  at  last,  died  in  poverty  themselves,  and  left  the  same  por- 
tion to  those  who  succeeded  them?  How  often,  by  occurrences  that 
could  not  be  foreseen,  or  by  fraud,  treachery  and  deceit  that  could  not 
be  prevented,  has  a  patrimony,  or  a  legacy,  been  entirely  and  forever 
kept  from  those  for  whom  it  was  intended,  and  to  whom,  in  justice,  it 
belonged.^  Pursuing  aright  the  thoughts  which  these  inquiries  may 
suggest,  it  will  appear  that  property  possessed  by  inheritance  cometh 


In  Benevolent  Contributions  we  serve  God  with  his  own,         59 

of  God,  as  really  as  that  which  is  obtained  in  any  other  way— Nay, 
as  it  comes  to  the  possessor  without  any  of  his  own  labour  or  care,  a 
tribute  of  thankfulness  seems  to  be  especially  due  to  that  kind  provi- 
dence which  ordered  his  lot  so  favourably;  and  it  becomes  him  pecu- 
liarly to  remember,  that  in  employing^  this  property  in  any  benevolent 
acts,  he  does  no  more  than  serve  God  with  his  own  gift. 

Or  has  any  one  become  rapidly  or  suddenly  possessed  of  wealth,  or 
an  easy  estate?  It  has  already  been  remarked,  that  men  are  sometimes 
more  ready  to  allow  that  this  cometh  of  God,  than  in  cases  where  pro- 
perty is  gradually  and  laboriously  acquired.  Yet  to  this  very  case,  a 
remark  which  belongs  generally  to  the  whole  subject  applies  with  pe- 
culiar force — It  is,  that  as  all  possessions  which  are  not  lawfully  or 
honestly  obtained,  do  not,  in  the  sense  of  the  text,  come  of  God,  so 
this  is  more  frequently  the  case  when  riches  are  rapidly  accumulated 
than  in  many  other  instances.  **  He  that  maketh  haste  to  be  rich,  savs 
Solomon,  shall  not  be  innocent" — "  They  that  will  be  rich,  says  the 
apostle,  fall  into  temptation  and  a  snare,  and  into  many  foolish  and  hurt- 
ful lusts  that  drown  men  in  destruction  and  perdition."  All  the  gains  of 
unrighteousness,  in  whatever  way  acquired,  come  not  of  God:  that  is, 
they  come  not  as  a  blessing,  and  are  never  held  with  his  approbation. 
He  even  rejects  them  from  his  service,  for  "he  will  not  have  robbery 
for  a  burnt  offering."  Whoever  expects  to  bribe  the  approbation  of 
heaven  to  deeds  of  fraud  and  injustice,  by  giving  to  charitable  or 
pious  designs,  will  find  himself  av^fully  disappointed.  Such  a  man 
attempts  by  giving  a  part  of  what  is  not  his  own,  to  obtain  a  license 
to  hold  the  remainder.  No.  Let  him  restore  to  its  rightful  owner  that 
which  has  been  unlawfully  taken;  or  if  this  owner  cannot  be  found,  let 
him  give  to  the  Lord  the  last  farthing  of  his  ill-gotten  pelf.  "  Behold 
— said  the  truly  penitent  Zaccheus — behold  the  half  of  my  goods  I  give 
to  the  poor,  and  if  I  have  taken  aught  from  any  man,  by  false  accusation, 
I  restore  him  four-fold."  But  if,  by  the  peculiar  smiles  of  providence 
on  our  lawful  enterprise  or  industry,  we  are  prosjDcred  in  an  unexpected 
and  unusual  degree,  and  wealth  is  suddenly  or  rapidly  thrown  into  our 
hands,  then  indeed,  we  have  reason  to  say  with  special  propriety, 
"this  cometh  of  the  Lord:"  and  if  we  have  any  right  views  of  duty, 
we  shall  see  that  we  but  serve  God  with  his  own,  when  we  are  liberal 
of  this  property,  in  promoting  every  pious  and  useful  design. 

This  is  also  true,  in  regard  to  those  possessions  which  are  acquired 
slowly,  difficultly,  and  laboriously.  Did  you  use  mucli  management  and 
contrivance  in  getting  what  you  possess?  Were  you  very  diligent,  assi- 
duous and  persevering?  Were  you  frugal  and  economical  in  all  your 
concerns,  that  you  might  save  a  little?  And  who  was  it  that  gave  you 
that  capacity,  that  turn  of  mind  for  management  and  enterprise,  which 
has  made  the  whole  difference  between  you  and  those  improvident 
creatures,  whom  the  want  of  foresight,  contrivance,  or  resolution, 
keeps  in  perpetual  poverty?  Who  was  it  that  gave  and  preserved  to 
you  that  health  and  activity,  without  which  all  your  endeavours  must 
have  been  suspended  or  prevented,  and  for  the  want  of  which,  so  many 
labour  under  the  accumulated  pressure  of  penury  and  disease?  Who 
was  it  that  produced  those  favourable  occurrences,  which  introduced 
you  into  business,  and  which  rendered  that  business  profitable.^  Wlio 
was  it  that  saved  you  from  those  disastrous  mistakes,  and  accidents, 
and  losses,  by  which  hundreds  of  honest  and  industrious  men  are  con- 
stantly thrown  backward,  and  kept  from  getting  on  prosperously  in  the 
world.^     Who  was  it  that  has  rendered  your  business-enterprises  sue- 


60        In  Benevolent  Contributions  we  serve  God  ivith  his  own. 

cessful,  when  thousands,  who  have  wanted  neither  skill,  nor  diligence, 
nor  integrity,  can  scarcely  keep  themselves  and  their  families  above 
absolute  want?  Who  has  preserved  your  property,  since  it  was  ob- 
tained, from  the  destruction  of  fire  and  storm;  and  from  a  thousand 
incidents,  ag-ainst  which  human  wisdom  and  power  cannot  provide, 
and  by  which  "  riches  make  to  themselves  wings  and  fly  away?"  Who 
was  it? — It  was  God  that  did  all  this.  He  did  for  you  that  which  you 
could  not  do  for  yourselves — that,  without  which,  you  would  have 
been,  at  this  hour,  as  poor  as  any  unhappy  mortal  that  asks  your  cha- 
rity. AH  your  possessions,  then,  have  actually  come  of  God — He  has 
given  them  to  you;  and  whenever  you  lay  out  a  part  of  them,  in  any 
service  that  he  requires,  you  only  give  him  of  his  own. 

It  were  easy,  my  brethren,  to  pursue  this  train  of  thought  to  a  much 
greater  length — It  were  easy  to  show  in  detail,  that  as  "the  earth  is 
the  Lord's  and  the  fulness  thereof,"  as  he  is  the  Creator — the  original 
and  absolute  proprietor  of  all  the  good  things  that  we  possess;  and  as 
it  is  by  the  order  of  his  providence,  and  by  that  alone,  that  they  are 
conveyed  into  our  hands,  they  do  all,  in  the  most  emphatic  sense, 
"  come  of  him:"  And  that,  whenever  we  expend,  in  a  service  that  he 
requires,  something  of  this  store  that  he  hath  put  in  our  keeping,  it 
is  no  more  than  serving  him.  with  his  own  property.  But  these  ideas 
are  too  plain  to  need  explanation,  although  they  well  deserve  a  careful 
remembrance.     I  therefore  proceed — 

II.  To  deduce  from  what  has  been  stated  a  number  of  practical  and 
important  inferences. 

First,  then,  If  all  that  we  possess  be  given  us  of  God,  and  we  do 
but  serve  him  with  his  own,  when  we  make  the  best  and  most  liberal 
use  of  our  property,  then  assuredly,  we  have  no  reason  to  be  proud, 
or  to  appear  great  in  our  own  eyes,  either  on  account  of  what  v/e  pos- 
sess, or  of  any  good  purposes  which  we  may  promote  by  it.  This  is 
the  im.portant  and  practical  truth  which  is  taught  us  in  the  text  and 
context,  by  the  language  and  the  conduct  of  their  royal  and  inspired 
author.  He  possessed  much,  and  he  did  and  devoted  much  to  the  ser- 
vice of  God,  and  yet  he  takes  no  praise  to  himself — Nay,  he  was  truly 
humbled,  as  every  good  man  will  be,  in  thinking  that  so  unworthy  a 
creature  as  he,  should  be  so  favoured  and  distinguished  by  a  kind  pro- 
vidence, as  to  be  able  to  do  the  desirable  service  which  had  been  per- 
formed. Contrast  with  this,  the  arrogant  and  impious  spirit  of  ano- 
ther monarch,  the  proud  king  of  Babylon;  and  let  his  awful  doom  prove 
a  warning  to  us,  not  to  ascribe  to  our  own  wisdom  or  efforts  what  be- 
longs to  the  divine  bounty — "  All  this  came  upon  the  king  Nebuchad- 
nezzar. At  the  end  of  twelve  months,  he  walked  in  the  palace  of  the 
kingdom  of  Babylon.  The  king  spake  and  said — is  not  this  great  Ba- 
bylon which  I  have  built?  for  the  house  of  the  kingdom,  by  the  might 
of  my  power  and  for  the  honour  of  my  majesty.  While  the  word  was 
in  the  king's  mouth,  there  fell  a  voice  from  heaven  saying — O  king 
Nebuchadnezzar!  to  thee  it  is  spoken;  the  kingdom  is  departed  from 
thee:  And  they  shall  drive  thee  from  men,  and  thy  dwelling  shall  be 
with  the  beasts  of  the  field;  they  shall  make  thee  eat  grass  as  oxen, 
and  seven  times  shall  pass  over  thee,  until  thou  know  that  the  Most 
High  ruleth  in  the  kingdom  of  men,  and  giveth  it  to  whomsoever  he 
will."  Brethren,  be  our  situation  what  it  may,  let  us  always  remem- 
ber that  "pride  was  not  made  for  man."  Gratitude — the  most  lively 
and  the  most  humble  gratitude  to  God — is  the  sentiment  that  we  ought 
to  feel  and  cherish,  when  the  divine  bounty  renders  our  worldly  cir- 


In  Benevolent  Contributions  we  serve  God  with  his  own.  61 

cumstances  comfortable,  or  enables  us  to  do  good  to  others.  But  the 
nioineat  that  pride  begins  to  swell  and  inllate  our  foolish  hearts,  we 
act  the  very  part  of  a  beggar,  who  applauds  himself  because  he  has 
received  an  alms. 

2.  If  worldly  wealth  cometh  of  God,  then  he  has  an  undoubted 
right  both  to  withhold  it,  and  to  take  it  away,  according  to  his  sove- 
reign pleasure.  Children  of  poverty — God  has  done  you  no  wrong, 
in  not  giving  you  the  riches  of  this  world.  Shall  he  not  do  what  he 
will  with  his  own?  Perhaps  he  has  seen  your  present  condition  to  be 
best  for  you. — Perhaps  he  keeps  you  poor  at  present,  that  he  may 
bestow  upon  you  "  the  true  riches"  in  an  eternal  state.  Let  no  mur- 
muring or  repining  emotions  be  indulged  against  his  sovereign  will: 
And  if  any  to  whom  I  speak,  were  once  in  other  and  better  circum- 
stances than  they  now  are  permitted  to  enjoy,  let  them  remember,  that 
what  they  possessed  was  only  lent  of  God;  and  that  he  had  a  right  to 
call  and  take  it  whenever  he  pleased. 

"  He  gave,  and  blessed  be  his  name, 
He  takes  but  vvliat  he  gave" — 

Think  of  the  language  of  holy  Job  when  deprived,  not  only  of  all 
his  wealth,  which  had  been  great  indeed,  but  of  all  his  friends,  and 
his  Ijodily  health  and  ease — "  Naked  came  I  out  of  my  mother's  womb, 
and  naked  shall  I  return  thither.  The  Lord  gave,  and  the  Lord  hath 
taken  away,  blessed  be  the  name  of  the  Lord  I" 

3.  If  all  that  we  possess  comes  of  God,  and  we  serve  him  with  his 
own,  in  all  the  good  that  we  do,  then  surely  it  follows,  that  the  kind- 
ness, grace  and  condescension,  of  our  heavenly  Father  is  most  con- 
spicuous, in  rewarding  us  for  every  good  work,  as  if  it  had  been 
wholly  our  own.  In  the  great  day  of  final  account,  Jesus  Christ,  our 
Saviour  and  our  Judge,  represents  himself  as  conferring  the  heavenly 
inheritance,  purchased  by  his  own  infinite  merits,  and  conveyed  to  his 
people  by  his  own  infinite  grace,  on  those  who  have  fed  the  hungry, 
clothed  the  naked,  visited  the  sick,  and  relieved  the  prisoner,  from  a  re- 
gard to  him  and  to  his  commandment.  Most  generous  master! — most 
condescending  Redeemer!— thou  givest  us  all  the  means,  and  all  the 
disposition  to  do  good  that  w^e  ever  possess,  and  then  thou  commend- 
est  and  rewardest  it,  as  if  it  had  belonged  wholly  to  ourselves.  Let 
this  be  an  example  to  those  who  receive  the  charity  of  others.  It  in- 
deed comes  from  God,  and  to  him  your  principal  gratitude  is  due; 
but  if  he  rewards  the  instruments  that  dispense  this  bounty,  you  cer- 
tainly ought  to  love,  and  to  pray  for  a  blessing  on  them. 

4.  We  learn  from  this  subject  that  a  truly  godly  person,  so  far  as  he 
acts  agreeably  to  this  character,  does  and  will,  consider  himself  in  no 
other  light  than  as  a  steward  of  that  portion  of  worldly  wealth,  -which 
divine  providence  has  entrusted  to  him;  that  agreeably  to  this  idea  he 
is  to  dispose  of  his  property,  and  agreeably  to  this  idea  he  is  to  ac- 
count for  it  at  last.  It  is  this,  my  brethren,  which  distinguishes  the 
real  practical  Christian  from  the  man  of  the  world,  in  regard  to  worldly 
things.  The  man  of  the  world  considers  them  as  his  own, — his  pro- 
perty,— his  portion:  but  the  real  Christian  who  views  them  in  the  light 
of  faith,  sees  that  they  are  not  his  own, — not  his  property — not  his 
portion.  The  whole  belongs  to  God,  and  he  is  only  a  steward,  put  in 
trust,  to  manage  it  to  the  best  account.  He  serves  indeed  an  indul- 
gent miaster,  who  permits  him  to  take  enough  for  his  own  comfort,  and 
lomake  a  suitable  provision  for  his  posterity,  or  dependents.  But  he 
is  not  at  liberty  to  consume  more  than  this:  he  is  to  waste  nothing;  he 


62  Christ  a  Rock. 

is  to  use  no  more  than  his  comfort  requires,  and  he  is  to  give  no  more 
to  his  children  than,  in  his  best  judgment,  he  believes  will  make  them 
most  useful.  All  the  rest,  be  it  more  or  less,  he  is  to  employ  in  serv- 
ing God.  This  is  the  rule  by  which  a  Christian  should  walk;  by 
which  some  have  actually  and  honestly  walked — And  yet — tell  it  not 
in  Gath — there  are  many  worldly  men  who  will  give  more — and  more 
cheerfully — to  any  charitable  or  pious  design,  than  some  who  make  a 
high  profession  of  Christian  piety. 

"  That  man  may  last,  but  never  lives, 
Who  much  receives  but  little  gives; 
Whom  none  can  love,  whom  none  can  thank, 
Creation's  blot,  creation's  blank. 

But  he  who  marks,  from  day  to  day, 
With  generous  acts  his  radiant  way, ' 
Treads  the  same  path  his  Saviour  trod, 
The  path  to  glory  and  to  God." 


SERMOir. 

CHRIST  A  ROCK. 


1  Cor.  X.  4. — "  For  they  drank  of  that  spiritual  rock  that  followed  them,  and  that 
rock  was  Christ." 

By  figurative  representations  some  of  the  most  important  instruc- 
tions of  divine  revelation  are  communicated.  Under  the  typical  dis- 
pensation of  Moses  especially,  there  was  scarcely  any  public  act,  occur- 
rence or  institution,  which  did  not  import  more  than  at  first  appeared; 
and  while  it  served  some  obvious  present  purpose,  did  not  point  also  to 
some  more  remote  and  hidden,  but  yet  more  spiritual  and  important 
object  or  end.  This  spiritual  signification  of  the  ancient  Jewish  sym- 
bols, though  it  was  often  perceived,  and  was  highly  beneficial  to  the 
believing  Israelites,  was  not  intended  merely,  nor  perhaps  principally, 
for  their  benefit.  It  is  under  the  gospel  dispensation  that  the  intention 
of  all  the  types  is  most  clearly  unfolded;  so  that  by  viewing  them  in  re- 
trospect, and  with  the  advantage  derived  from  the  light  of  the  gospel, 
more  may  be  discovered  by  a  Christian  than  could  be  known  to  a  Jew. 
To  aid  us  in  this  useful  investigation,  the  inspired  writers  of  the  New 
Testament  often  become  our  teachers  and  guides.  They  frequently  ad- 
vert to  the  Hebrew  scriptures  for  the  illustration  and  enforcement  of 
what  they  deliver:  and  thus  by  a  kind  of  double  revelation,  the  wisdom 
of  God  is  most  conspicuously  displayed,  the  faith  of  believers  most 
powerfully  confirmed,  the  beauty  of  sacred  truth  most  engagingly  ex- 
hibited, and  its  whole  design  most  fully  accomplished.  Among  innu- 
merable passages  which  show  the  truth  of  this  representation,  the  text 
is  one  of  the  most  striking. 

The  apostle  labours  in  the  context  to  excite  a  holy  circumspection 
in  the  Corinthian  Christians,  lest  slighting  or  misimproving  their  pe- 
culiar privileges,  they  should  lose  the  blessings  which  these  privileges 
were  calculated  to  convey.  With  this  view,  he  points  their  attention, 
both  for  encouragement  and  warning,  to  the  history  of  the  people  of 
Israel  under  the  conduct  of  Moses  in  the  wilderness.  Speaking,  in  this 
connexion,  of  the  miraculous  supply  of  water  which  followed  them  on 
their  journey,  he  denominates  it  "  spiritual  drink;"  and  then  to  explain 
the  reason  of  his  giving  it  this  appellation,  he  says — "  For  they  drank 


Christ  a  Rock.  63 

of  that  spiritual  rock  that  followed  them,  and  that  rock  was  Christ." 
By  a  figure  of  speech,  too  frequent  in  its  use  and  too  obvious  in  its  inn- 
port  to  be  misapprehended,  the  people  are  here  said  to  have  drunk  of  the 
rock  that  followed  theni,  instead  of  the  water  which  flowed  from  it;  and 
the  attention  is  awakened  to  investigate  the  meaning  of  the  bold  and 
comprehensive  metaphor  which  is  used,  when  the  apostle  affirms  that 
this  rock  was  Christ. 

To  unfold  the  intention  of  this  metaphor,  and  explain  and  apply  the 
design  of  the  whole  expression,  is  the  object  of  the  present  discourse. 
In  doing  this,  it  will  be  useful,  in  order  to  avoid  the  danger  of  torturing 
the  figurative  language  of  the  inspired  penman  to  a  meaning  foreign  to 
his  own,  to  consider  attentively  the  spiritual  truth  intended  to  be  con- 
veyed; to  state  this  truth  distinctly  and  summarily  at  once;  and  then  to 
recall  the  sensible  images,  only  for  the  purpose  of  illustration  or  en- 
forcement. Agreeably  to  this,  let  it  be  carefully  remarked,  that  there 
are  three  distinct  things  comprehended  in  the  type  we  consider.  First, 
— The  rock,  which  was  the  source,  or  fountain,  from  which  the  water 
flowed:  Secondly — The  streams  themselves,  by  which  the  thirst  of  the 
people  was  allayed,  and  their  strength  invigorated:  Thirdly — The  ulti- 
mate object  for  which  the  whole  was  done;  namely,  to  conduct  the  Is- 
rael of  God  to  the  promised  land.  Now,  as  the  apostle  asserts  that  this 
rock  was  Christ,  1  think  the  propositions  of  evangelical  truth  corres- 
ponding to  the  sensible  and  temporal  things  just  stated,  are  plainly  the 
three  foUowing^ — 

I.  That  the  believer's  hope  of  salvation  must  derive  its  very  origin 
from  Christ  Jesus,  or  be  placed  on  him  alone. 

II.  That  a  resort  must  constantly  be  made  to  the  never-failing  ful- 
ness of  the  Saviour,  for  all  those  supplies  of  grace  and  strength,  which 
are  necessary  to  refresh  and  invigorate  the  Christian,  in  his  passage 
through  the  world. 

III.  That  the  ultimate  design,  and  the  sure  result  of  all,  is,  that  the 
faithful  disciple  of  Christ  shall  at  length  possess  the  heavenly  inherit- 
ance. 

After  speaking  very  briefly  to  each  of  these  points,  the  discourse 
shall  be  concluded  with  a  practical  application. 

First,  then,  we  are  to  consider — That  the  believer's  hope  of  salvation 
must  derive  its  very  origin  from  Christ  Jesus,  or  be  placed  on  him 
alone.  As  the  rock  smitten  by  Moses  furnished  the  fountain,  from 
which  sprang  forth  the  water  which  saved  the  thirsty  Israelite  from 
death,  so  Christ,  when  "stricken,  smitten  of  God  and  afilicted,"  pour- 
ed forth  that  blood  of  the  atonement,  which  alone  can  save  from  eter- 
nal death,  the  perishing  soul,  which  hastens  to  it  for  relief  Hence  the 
Saviour  himself,  "  in  the  last  day,  that  great  day  of  the  feast,  stood  and 
cried — if  any  man  thirst,  let  him  come  unto  me  and  drink."  His 
atonement  and  righteousness  only,  are  the  "fountain  opened  to  the 
house  of  David  and  inhal)itants  of  Jerusalem,  for  sin  and  for  unclean- 
ness."  Or  if,  taking  another  figure  furnished  by  the  sacred  writers, 
you  view  this  rock,  not  as  a  fountain,  but  as  a  foundation,  on  which  the 
hope  of  eternal  life  is  built, — then  we  are  assured  that  "other  founda- 
tion can  no  man  lay  than  that  is  laid,  w^hich  is  Jesus  Christ — Behold  I 
lay  in  Zion  a  chief  corner  stone,  elect,  precious;  and  he  that  believeth 
on  him  shall  not  be  confounded.  Ye  are  built  upon  the  foundation  of 
the  apostles  and  prophets,  Jesus  Christ  himself  being  the  chief  corner 
stone."  But,  my  brethren,  to  the  fountain  contemplated  none  will  come, 
on  the  foundation  laid  in  Zion  none  will  rest,  till  the  absolute  necessity 


64  Christ  a  Rock. 

of  doing  it  is  felt,  in  a  manner  the  most  urgent  and  pressing.  Till  a 
sinner  see  clearly  and  undoubtingly,  that  without  a  vital  union  with 
Christ  he  is  sure  to  perish,  he  will  never  embrace  the  Saviour  "  as  a)l 
his  salvation  and  all  his  desire."  Without  such  a  perception  indeed,  it 
is  impossible  that  the  necessary  application  should  be  made.  How  great 
is  the  number  of  those  who  enjoy  the  gospel,  to  whom  the  Redeemer 
never  appears  precious?  They  hear  the  declarations  of  his  suitableness, 
and  the  invitations  of  his  grace,  without  interest  or  concern.  Asleep 
in  their  sins,  they  perceive  not  the  burning  gulf  that  is  working  be- 
neath them,  and  therefore  see  no  necessity  of  escaping  for  their  lives  to 
a  place  of  safety.  Nor  is  it  enough  merely  that  the  sinner  be  alarmed. 
Many  have  had  their  fears  excited,  who  have  never  "fled  for  refuge  to 
lay  hold  on  the  hope  set  before  them"  in  the  gospel.  If  the  awakened 
conscience  be  quieted  with  the  belief  that  some  tears  of  penitence,  a 
partial  reformation,  or  abstaining  from  gross  sins,  will  be  sufficient— 
nay,  if  making  many  prayers,  attending  on  all  ordinances,  attempting 
all  duties,  and  exhibiting  an  unexceptionable  deportment,  be  relied  on 
as  the  meritorious  cause  of  acceptance  with  God,  the  sinner  is  misera- 
bly deluded.  Ah  I  my  brethren,  this  specious  self-righteousness,  in 
whatever  way,  and  many  are  the  ways,  in  which  men  attempt  to 
build  upon  it,  is  not  the  rock  which  will  sustain  the  fabric  of  your 
eternal  hopes.  Here  is  "  the  sandy  foundation,"  against  which  our 
Lord  himself  hath  warned  us;  and  whoever  builds  upon  it,  will  find  that 
in  the  day  of  trial,  when  the  wind  shall  blow,  and  the  storm  shall  beat, 
and  the  floods  shall  come,  this  "refuge  of  lies"  will  be  swept  away,  and 
he  who  had  taken  shelter  in  it  will  be  lost  in  the  abyss  of  final  ruin. 
But  when,  under  the  influences  of  the  Spirit  of  grace,  an  eff^ectual  con- 
viction of  guilt  takes  hold  on  the  conscience  of  a  sinner;  wdien  he  sees 
the  depths  of  depravity  which  exist  in  his  very  heart  and  nature,  and 
the  violations  of  the  holy  law  of  God  which  have  filled  up  his  whole 
life;  when  he  sees  that  he  can  off'er  no  excuse  and  make  no  escape; 
when  he  is  made  impressively  sensible  that  nothing  he  can  do,  or  work 
out  of  himself,  can  be  any  recommendation  of  him  to  the  divine  fa- 
vour; when  he  realizes  that  an  infinite  atonement  and  a  finished  righ- 
teousness is  what  he  needs,  and  must  have,  or  be  undone  forever;  then 
in  very  deed  he  is  "  shut  up  unto  the  faith"  of  the  gospel.  And  when, 
by  the  enlightening  and  regenerating  influences  of  divine  grace,  he  is 
made  to  discern  clearly,  that  "  Christ  is  the  end  of  the  law  for  righ- 
teousness to  every  one  that  believeth;" — that  in  him  there  is  all  that 
can  be  asked  in  a  Saviour;  that  the  veracity  of  God  offers  him  even  to 
the  chief  of  sinners  who  will  accept  him  freely;  that  "  whosoever  be- 
lieveth in  him  shall  not  perish,  but  have  everlasting  life;"  and  when  the 
will  and  affections  fully  and  delightfully  approve  of  this  plan  and  offer; 
then  the  soul  is  won  to  Jesus.  Then,  throwing  away  with  abhorrence 
every  remnant  of  his  own  righteousness,  abandoning  every  plea,  and 
every  hope,  and  every  wish  of  deliverance  from  any  other  quarter; 
viewing  with  holy  rapture  the  glory  of  God  displaying  its  splendours 
in  the  gospel  plan  of  salvation,  the  sinner  grasps  the  Saviour  as  his  all 
— choosing  with  infinite  preference  that  Christ  should  be  "made  of  God 
unto  him  wisdom  and  righteousness,  sanctification  and  redemption;" 
then  the  soul  is  founded  on  the  roc/c  Christ  Jesics — the  rock  of  ages, 
against  which  the  gates  of  hell  shall  never  prevail.  Now,  "  being  jus- 
tified by  faith,  the  believing  penitent  has  peace  with  God  through  our 
Lord  Jesus  Christ" — The  sweet  sense  of  this  "  peace  which  passeth  all 
understanding,"  the  joy  which  arises  from  the  humble  confidence  of 


Christ  a  Rock.  65 

pardoned  guilt,  the  assurance  that  sin  shall  not  have  dominion  over 
him,  and  that  all  that  God  hath  promised  he  is  not  only  able  but  assur- 
edly engaged  to  perform;  this  is  the  first  draught  of  the  fountain  of 
life  flowing  from  the  rock  Christ  Jesus,  which  rejoices  and  enlivens 
that  which  a  little  before  was  a  weary  and  heavy  laden  spirit.  But 
still,  though  the  believer  be  thus  comforted  and  strengthened  for  the 
present,  the  wilderness  is  not  yet  passed 5  it  is  only  entered,  and  through 
it  lies  yet  before  him  the  tedious  and  trying  journey  which  leads  to  the 
heavenly  rest — And,  therefore,  I  have  said — 

II.  That  a  resort  must  constantly  be  had  to  the  never-failing  fulness 
of  the  Saviour,  for  all  those  supplies  of  grace  and  strength,  which  are 
necessary  to  refresh  and  invigorate  the  Christian  in  his  passage  through 
the  world. 

Speaking  of  our  blessed  Lord,  the  author  of  our  text  asserts  that  "  it 
hath  pleased  the  Father  that  in  him  should  all  fulness  dwell:"  yea,  that 
"  in  him  dwelleth  all  the  fulness  of  the  Godhead  bodily:"  And  the 
apostle  John  affirms,  that  "  of  his  fulness  have  all  we  received  and 
grace  for  grace."  By  the  most  various  and  impressive  language  of 
inspiration  is  the  doctrine  taught  and  inculcated,  that  all  the  spiritual 
wants  of  the  believer  are  provided  for  in  the  Redeemer,  and  that  from 
him  relief  is  to  be  sought  and  obtained.  Like  the  unfailing  and  inex- 
haustible streams  that  followed  the  chosen  people  of  Heaven  through 
all  the  dry  and  inhospitable  deserts  which  they  had  to  pass;  so  the 
streams  of  divine  grace  which  flow  from  the  fulness  of  their  redeeming 
God,  follow  his  chosen  ones  through  all  the  thorny  and  thirsty  wilds  of 
their  mortal  life:  And  happy  is  it,  beyond  estimation,  that  such  is  the 
fact;  for  their  wants  are  both  numerous  and  incessantly  recurring.  He 
can  only  have  entered  the  school  of  Christ,  who  supposes  that  when  a 
vital  union  with  him  is  effected,  every  difficulty  is  past.  Alas!  they 
who  know  most  by  experience  of  the  Christian  course,  can  tell  most  of 
the  various  difficulties  that  lie  in  the  way.  When,  indeed,  a  full  draught 
has  been  received  of  "  the  water  of  life,"  whether  at  the  beginning  of 
a  converted  state,  or  after  much  progress  in  it,  the  soul  is  so  cheered 
and  satisfied,  that  it  seems  as  if  distress  was  gone  forever.  Like  one 
who  has  just  extinguished  all  his  natural  thirst  by  drinking  largely  at 
a  pleasant  fountain,  the  idea  can  scarcely  be  realized  that  the  painful 
sensations,  now  completely  removed,  will  speedily  return.  The  present 
relief  is  so  complete,  that  it  seems  as  if  it  must  be  lasting.  But  in 
both  cases  the  event  is  the  same.  As  the  natural  refreshments  which 
we  take  to-day,  however  agreeable  or  abundant,  will  not  serve  us  for 
to-morrow,  so  in  the  spiritual  life,  no  comforts  or  cordials  of  which 
we  have  tasted  in  time  past,  will  suffice  us  for  the  time  to  come.  "Give 
us  day  by  day  our  daily  bread" — is  a  petition  not  more  applicable  to 
the  body  than  it  is  to  the  soul.  It  was  not  more  necessary  for  the 
Hebrew  in  the  wilderness  to  go  daily,  and  more  than  once  in  a  day,  to 
"  the  rock  that  followed  him,"  than  it  is  for  the  Christian  pilgrim,  in 
the  wilderness  of  this  sinful  world,  to  go  as  frequently  to  the  rock  of 
his  salvation, — to  the  fulness  of  Christ,  there  to  beg  and  to  receive  the 
supply  of  his  new  necessities. 

It  is  an  important  advice  given  by  the  penman  of  the  text,  in  his 
epistle  to  the  Colossians,  "  as  ye  have  received  Christ  Jesus  the  Lord 
so  walk  ye  in  him:" — That  is — "Be  careful  to  preserve  inviolate  the 
union  that  is  formed  between  your  souls  and  the  Redeemer;  and  in  the 
same  manner  in  which  you  came  to  and  embraced  him  at  first,  continue 
to  come,  to  the  end  of  life — Continue,  after  you  have  known  him  ever 
I 


66  Christ  a  Rock, 

so  long;,  to  receive  him  by  the  acts  of  faith,  just  as  you  received  him  at 
first;  as  a  complete  Saviour,  to  pardon  freely  all  your  sins,  and  to 
quicken,  sanctify,  uphold  and  preserve  you."  The  present  state,  my 
Christian  brethren,  was  intended  to  be  a  constant  trial  of  the  faith  and 
patience  of  the  saints.  The  world,  the  flesh  and  the  devil,  are  their 
enemies;  and  in  all  the  multiform  ways  in  which  they  can  produce  an- 
noyance, it  will  to  the  very  last  be  experienced.  A  volume  would 
scarcely  suffice  to  delineate  all  the  difficulties  and  distresses,  all  the 
doubts,  fears,  conflicts  and  temptations,  that  may  assail  the  Christian 
pilgrim  who  has  set  his  face  toward  Mount  Zion  above.  But  blessed 
be  God,  there  is  not  one  case,  nor  one  situation,  in  which  a  child  of  his 
ever  can  be  placed,  but  there  is  provision  made  for  it  in  the  covenant 
of  grace,  in  the  fulness  of  Christ.  To  him,  therefore,  let  the  constant 
resort  be  made;  to  him  let  the  importunate  application  be  incessantly 
addressed;  and  though  for  a  time,  and  for  a  trial  of  faith,  he  may 
seem  to  refuse,  yet  in  the  end  he  will  assuredly  afford  relief.  If  your 
necessities.  Christian  brethren,  be  frequent,  numerous  and  pressing, 
let  your  entreaties  be  as  frequent,  numerous  and  pressing  as  your 
wants.  When  you  suffer  most,  imitate  your  Saviour  in  his  agony,  and 
cry  to  him  the  more  earnestly.  When  you  are  the  most  thirsty,  come 
the  most  frequently  to  the  fountain: — "To  him  that  is  athirst  will  I 
give  (saith  Christ,)  of  the  fountain  of  the  water  of  life  freely."  And  to 
thy  Saviour,  in  the  hour  of  death,  as  in  every  past  hour,  be  thy  soul, 
O  believer!  committed;  and  he  will  not  fail  either  to  cheer  it  by  his 
sensible  presence,  or  to  keep  it  in  safety  by  his  almighty  power.  For 
we  are  now  to  show — 

III.  That  the  ultimate  design  and  the  sure  result  of  all  this  provision 
of  grace  is,  that  the  faithful  disciple  of  Christ  shall,  at  length,  possess 
the  heavenly  inheritance. 

The  miracle  which  was  wrought  by  the  instrumentality  of  Moses  to 
supply  the  camp  of  Israel  with  water,  was  only  a  mean  necessary  to 
an  important  end.  The  God  of  their  fathers  had  engaged  to  give  them 
the  land  of  Canaan  for  an  inheritance  and  possession. — To  preserve 
them  from  death,  in  crossing  the  parched  and  barren  regions  which 
lay  between  them  and  the  promised  land,  the  waters  were  made  to  flow 
at  their  side.  The  relief  which  these  waters  afforded  from  threatening 
death,  and  the  temporary  comforts  which  they  produced  in  a  sultry 
climate,  were  indeed  blessings  in  themselves;  but  still  they  were  only 
preparatory  to  greater  and  more  durable  blessings  in  reserve.  They 
were  but  the  indispensable  provision  for  those  who  were  travelling  to 
a  fixed  home  and  a  settled  rest,  and  were  given  to  insure  an  arrival 
there.  There,  when  they  arrived,  they  would,  in  place  of  a  solitary 
stream,  find  "  a  good  land,  a  land  of  brooks  of  water,  of  fountains  and 
depths  that  spring  out  of  valleys  and  hills;  a  land  of  wheat  and  barley, 
and  vines,  and  fig-trees,  and  pomegranates;  a  land  of  oil-olive  and 
honey;  a  land  wherein  thou  shalt  eat  bread  without  scarceness;  thou 
shalt  not  lack  any  thing  in  it."  Just  so  the  supplies  of  divine  grace 
which  are  now  aff'orded  to  the  Christian,  are  only  a  foretaste  and  pre- 
sage of  better  things  to  come.  They  are  given  to  strengthen  him  on 
his  way  to  the  heavenly  Canaan,  to  the  rest  which  remaineth  for  the 
people  of  God,  and  to  insure  its  eventual  possession.  This  is  the  de- 
claration of  our  Lord  himself — "  Whosoever  drinketh  of  the  water 
that  I  shall  give  him  shall  never  thirst;  but  the  water  that  I  shall  give 
him  shall  be  in  him  a  well  of  water  springing  up  into  everlasting  life." 
That  is — ^^  The  graces  of  the  divine  Spirit,  given  to  those  who  truly 


Christ  a  Rock,  67 

believe  on  me,  shall  produce  within  the  possessor  a  source  of  happi- 
ness that  shall  ultimately  extinguish  every  uneasy  desire  after  it — for 
these  graces  shall  continue  and  increase  till  they  terminate  in  that 
everlasting-  life  of  which  they  are  the  earnest,  and  of  which  they  insure 
the  possession." 

Yes,  beloved  brethren,  to  whomsoever  the  special  grace  of  God  is 
imparted,  it  insures  eternal  glory  as  the  consequence.  This  is  the 
divine  purpose  in  the  gift,  and  nothing  can  prevent  its  accomplish- 
ment. Hence,  saith  the  apostle,  "  he  which  stablisheth  us  with  you 
in  Christ,  and  hath  anointed  us,  is  God.  Who  hath  also  sealed  us,  and 
given  the  earnest  of  the  Spirit  in  our  hearts."  And  the  divine  Saviour 
declares — "  My  sheep  hear  my  voice,  and  I  know  them  and  they  follow 
me:  And  I  give  unto  them  eternal  life;  and  they  shall  never  perish, 
neither  shall  any  pluck  them  out  of  my  hand.  My  Father  which  gave 
them  me  is  greater  than  all,  and  none  is  able  to  pluck  them  out  of  my 
Father's  hand — I  and  my  Father  are  one."  The  most  of  those  indeed 
who  left  the  land  of  Egyptian  bondage  under  Moses  fell,  through  un- 
belief, in  the  wilderness;  and  this  should  serve  as  a  solemn  admoni- 
tion to  all  professing  Christians  to  guard  against  the  same  evil — For 
the  apostle  warns  us  in  the  context — "That  all  these  things  happened 
unto  them  for  ensamples;  and  they  are  written  for  our  admonition 
upon  whom  the  ends  of  the  world  are  come — Wherefore  let  him  that 
thinketh  he  standeth  take  heed  lest  he  fall."  Rut  though  many  nomi- 
nal and  visible  Christians  who  have  partaken  of  all  ordinances  in  the 
church  on  earth,  shall  never  be  admitted  to  the  church  triumphant 
above,  still  it  is  a  truth,  that  none  of  the  real  people  of  God  shall  fall, 
as  the  faithless  Israelites  did  in  the  wilderness — He  who  is  able  to  make 
them  stand  will  still  uphold  them;  will  recall  them  from  all  their  wan- 
derings; will  preserve  them  from  all  their  enemies;  will  at  length  bring 
every  individual  to  the  Canaan  above;  and  confer  upon  them  "an  inhe- 
ritance, incorruptible  and  undefiled,  and  that  fadeth  not  away."  There 
their  sorrows,  their  sufferings,  and  their  sins,  shall  cease  together;  and 
they  shall  drink  of  the  rivers  of  pleasure  that  flow  at  God's  right  hand. 
"  They  shall  hunger  no  more,  neither  thirst  any  more;  neither  shall  the 
sun  light  upon  them  nor  any  heat.  But  the  Lamb  that  is  in  the  midst 
of  the  throne  shall  feed  them,  and  shall  lead  them  to  living  fountains 
of  waters,  and  God  shall  wipe  away  all  tears  from  their  eyes: — and 
there  shall  be  no  more  death,  neither  sorrow  nor  crying,  neither  shall 
there  be  any  more  pain;  for  the  former  things  are  passed  away." 

It  now  remains  to  apply  the  subject. 

In  the  first  place,  then — From  what  you  have  heard,  let  professing 
Christians  be  exhorted  to  examine  with  frequency  and  care,  whether 
they  have  truly  rested  their  souls  on  the  rock  Christ  Jesus.  Many,  we 
are  assured  will,  in  the  day  of  final  retribution,  say — "  Lord,  Lord,  have 
we  not  eaten  and  drunk  in  thy  presence,  and  thou  hast  taught  in  our 
streets" — to  whom  he  will  profess,  "  I  never  knew  you;  depart  from 
me,  all  ye  that  work  iniquity."  And  how  dismaying,  beyond  concep- 
tion, must  be  the  rejection  and  condemnation  of  those  who  have  gone 
into  eternity  confidently  expecting  to  meet  the  plaudit  and  acceptance 
of  their  judge?  Let  us,  then,  my  Christian  brethren,  with  frequent  and 
jealous  scrutiny,  examine  whether  we  have  been  taught  and  enabled  to 
place  our  salvation  truly  and  wholly  in  the  hands  of  Christ:  whether 
we  have  felt,  and  do  constantly  feel,  that  we  are  infinitely  vile  and  un- 
unworthy  in  ourselves,  and  in  consequence  of  this,  are  looking  to  him, 
and  depending  on  him  as  our  all:  whether  we  do  earnestly  desire  that 


68  Christ  a  Rock. 

he  would  help  us  to  contend  against  all  sin,  and  that  he  would  more 
and  more  deliver  us  from  it:  whether  he  appears  as  a  precious  Saviour 
to  our  souls,  because  he  is  "to  save  his  people /rom  their  sins:"  whe- 
ther we  do  resolve  to  cleave  to  him  and  his  ways,  in  all  the  acts  of 
holy  obedience,  even  to  the  end  of  life — looking  to  him  while  we  thus 
resolve,  "  to  work  in  us  both  to  will  and  to  do  of  his  own  good  plea- 
sure," and  to  "keep  us  by  his  almighty  power  through  faith  unto  sal- 
vation."    If  this  be  the  temper  and  these  the  exercises  of  our  minds — 
however  we  may  mourn  our  darkness  and  our  difficulties — we  have 
good  reason  to  hope  that  we  are  founded  on  the  rock  Christ  Jesus,  and 
that  our  hope  shall  never  make  us  ashamed.     But  if,  on  the  contrary, 
we  are  seeking  justification  by  the  deeds  of  the  law,  and  do  not  feel 
most  sensibly,  that  without  a  vital  union  with  Christ  by  faith,  we  must 
perish:  if  the  Saviour  do  not  constantly  appear  necessary  and  some- 
times precious  to  us;  if  we  do  not  feel  our  obligations  to  obey  all  the 
laws  of  God;  and  yet,  after  all  we  have  done,  that  we  are  emphatically 
unprofitable  servants: — or  if  we  are  resting  on  some  supposed  spiritual 
views  which  we  07ice  had,  while  we  do  not  most  earnestly  seek  7iew 
views  of  Christ  and  his  fulness,  nor  endeavour  to  walk  as  he  hath  com- 
manded; then  truly  we  have  reason  to  fear  that  we  have  "  neither  part 
nor  lot  in  this  matter."     Let  all  such  be  exhorted,  as  they  value  their 
eternal  peace,  to  take  no  peace  to  themselves,  till  they  obtain  it  on 
other  grounds  than  those  on  which  it  is  now  resting. 

Secondly,  Nearly  allied  to  what  has  just  been  stated,  is  the  applica- 
tion which  should  be  made  of  this  subject,  by  awakened  and  inquiring 
souls.  Let  them  be  most  earnestly  entreated  to  take  up  with  nothing 
as  satisfying,  short  of  good  evidence  that  they  have  been  truly  brought 
to  rest  on  the  Saviour  alcne,  and  are  consequently  his  in  the  everlasting 
covenant  of  his  grace.  Better  to  bear  the  pains  of  a  wounded  con- 
science till  they  are  healed  by  the  blood  of  Christ,  than  to  have  them 
healed  slightly  by  any  other  remedy.  Cease  to  seek  justification  by 
your  own  efforts  or  obedience.  Come,  at  once,  to  the  Fountain  which 
can  cleanse  you  from  all  your  stains.  Are  you  altogether  vile — altoge- 
ther unworthy — altogether  helpless.?  Just  such  the  Redeemer  came  to 
save — As  such  you  are  invited  to  go  to  him  for  salvation.  If  you  ever 
attempt  to  come  to  him  in  any  other  character  than  this,  he  will  reject 
you.  If,  therefore,  you  feel  this  to  be  your  character,  that  sentiment 
exactly  suits  your  case  to  the  Saviour,  and  the  Saviour  to  your  case. 
To  you  he  must  be  precious — Throw  yourselves  entirely  upon  him, 
and  he  will  not  reject  you.  "  Ho!  every  one  that  thirsteth,  come  ye  to 
the  waters;  and  he  that  hath  no  money  come  ye  buy  and  eat;  yea,  come 
buy  wine  and  milk  without  money  and  without  price.  Wherefore  do 
ye  spend  your  money  for  that  which  is  not  bread,  and  your  labour  for 
that  which  satisfieth  not.  Hearken  diligently  unto  me,  and  eat  ye  that 
which  is  good,  and  let  your  souls  delight  itself  in  fatness.  Incline  your 
ear  and  come  unto  me;  hear  and  your  souls  shall  live:  and  I  will  make 
an  everlasting  covenant  with  you,  even  the  sure  mercies  of  David." 

Thirdly,  The  subject  which  we  have  been  discussing  applies  itself, 
in  a  peculiar  manner,  to  the  people  of  God— urging  them  to  "  abide  in 
Christ,"  and  to  animate  themselves  with  the  sure  prospect  of  the  hea- 
venly inheritance.  Hear,  my  brethren,  the  words  of  the  divine  Jesus — 
"  Abide  in  me  and  I  in  you.  As  the  branch  cannot  bear  fruit  of  itself 
unless  it  abide  in  the  vine,  no  more  can  ye  except  ye  abide  in  me.  I 
am  the  vine  ye  are  the  branches;  he  that  abideth  in  me  and  I  in 
him,  the  same  bringeth  forth  much  fruit;  for  without  me  ye  can  do 


The  J\*ature,  ^c.  of  the  Heavenly  State.  69 

nothing."  Truth,  blessed  Saviour!  without  thee  we  can  do  nothing. 
Help  us,  therefore,  by  thy  grace  constantly  imparted;  and  then, 
"through  thy  strengthening  us,  we  can  do  all  things."  Christians,  let 
us  never  exchange  the  holy  delight  which  arises  from  a  life  of  faith  on 
the  Son  of  God,  for  any  of  the  polluted  pleasures  of  the  world.  Let  us 
live  simply  upon  him;  and  under  all  the  trials  we  may  bear  for  his 
cause,  or  meet  with  in  his  service,  let  us  solace  ourselves  with  antici- 
pating that  heavenly  rest,  which  shall,  in  a  few  fleeting  days,  succeed 
to  all  our  toils,  and  which  will  be  the  sweeter  for  every  painful  sensa- 
tion we  now  endure. 

Finally — The  import  of  this  subject,  to  those  who  are  yet  "  at  ease  in 
Zion,"  is  both  awful  and  alluring.  It  is  awful,  as  it  indicates  their  dan- 
ger; it  is  alluring,  as  it  exhibits,  in  the  most  attractive  view,  the  way 
of  escape.  Christless  sinner!  thou  art  in  the  midst  of  a  howling  wil- 
derness, in  which  thou  wilt  certainly  perish,  if  thou  dost  not  flee  to 
the  rock  of  salvation.  Thy  outward  enemies,  Satan  and  the  world — 
and  thy  inward  diseases  corruptions  and  lusts,  that  produce  a  mortal 
fever  in  the  soul;  all  conspire  thy  eternal  ruin;  and  they  will  certainly 
prevail,  unless  Christ  be  thy  refuge,  Christ  thy  captain,  Christ  thy 
physician,  Christ  thy  sole  reliance,  Christ  the  water  of  life  to  thy 
perishing  immortal  spirit.  Behold,  then,  this  hour  he  ofters  to  be  all 
this  to  thee.  On  thy  peril,  refuse  not  the  offer.  By  the  worth  of  thy 
soul,  by  the  value  of  heavenly  rest,  by  the  mercies  of  God  in  Christ 
Jesus,  I  exhort,  charge  and  entreat  thee,  hasten  to  the  Saviour — But 
why  do  I  speak  of  my  entreaties? — Listen  to  and  embrace  with  unut- 
terable gratitude,  the  invitations  of  the  whole  church,  and  of  the  Spirit 
of  grace — "  For  the  Spirit  and  the  bride  say,  come — and  let  him  that 
heareth  say  come — and  let  him  that  is  athirst  come — and  whosoever 
will  let  him  take  the  water  of  life  freely."     Amen. 


SERMON. 

THE  NATURE,  EMPLOYMENT,  AND  HAPPINESS  OF  THE  HEAVENLY 

STATE. 

2  Cor.  V.  1. — "  For  we  know  that  if  our  earthly  house  of  this  tabernacle  were  dis- 
solved, we  have  a  building  of  God,  a  house  not  made  with  hands,  eternal  in  the  hea- 
vens." 

Li  these  words  the  apostle  Paul  describes  the  future  possessions  of 
the  righteous,  under  the  figure  of  a  building — "A  building  of  God,  a 
house  not  made  with  hands,  eternal  in  the  heavens."  It  is  by  figures, 
and  bv  negative  expressions,  that  the  state  of  future  happiness  is,  for 
the  most  part,  made  known  to  us,  in  the  oracles  of  inspiration.  While 
we  remain  in  our  "earthly  house,"  we  cannot  have  a  full  and  distinct 
knowledge  of  "the  house  not  made  with  hands."  For  this  our  mental 
faculties  do  not  qualify  us  in  our  present  state.  Here  we  obtain  our 
original  ideas  through  the  medium  of  our  bodily  senses;  and  to  these 
our  very  language,  when  we  speak  of  spiritual  objects  and  operations, 
has  almost  a  necessary  reference.  Of  unembodied  existence,  there- 
fore, and  of  the  exercises  and  feelings  of  purely  spiritual  beings,  our 
apprehensions  must  be  inadequate.  But  that  we  may,  by  analogy, 
obtain  some  just  notions,  however  imperfect,  of  that  blissful  state,  the 
hope  and  expectation  of  which  supports  and  animates  every  Christian, 


70  The  Jyature,  Sfc.  of  the  Heavenly  State. 

metaphorical  language  is  employed  in  the  word  of  God.  In  the  text 
heaven  is  called  a  building  of  God ^  a  house  not  "made  ivith  hands:  and 
elsewhere  we  find  it  spoken  of  as  a  mansion  of  God,  a  temple,  a  city,  a  pa- 
radise,  an  inheritance,  a  purchased  possession,  a  better  country,  a  kingdom, 
a  crown  of  glory;  and  as  rest,  peace,  and  the  joy  of  the  Lord. 

In  discoursing  to  you,  at  this  time,  on  the  state  and  exercises  of  the 
heavenly  world,  I  shall  not  confine  myself  to  the  text,  but  seek  aid  in 
every  part  of  the  sacred  volume,  for  the  illustration  of  this  important 
and  most  interesting  subject. 

I.  I  begin  with  remarking  that  when  we  speak  of  heaven,  our  minds 
and  our  expressions  almost  necessarily  refer  to  some  place;  some  local 
situation,  in  which  God  and  glorified  spirits  are  supposed  peculiarly  to 
reside.  This  is  observable  in  the  text;  and  as  already  intimated,  the 
same,  or  similar  language,  we  find  employed  in  many  other  parts  of  the 
inspired  writings.  Not  thinking  it  proper  to  consume  your  time  with 
mere  speculative  notions,  or  suggestions,  I  shall  not  even  mention  some 
of  the  hypotheses  and  conjectures  of  learned  and  pious  men,  relative  to 
the  intellectual  truth  taught  by  the  metaphorical  language  of  sacred 
scripture  touching  this  subject.  It  may,  however,  have  its  use  very 
briefly  to  notice  two  opinions — the  opinion  of  those  who  favour  the 
idea  that  heaven  ought  to  be  regarded  merely  as  a  state,  and  not  as  a 
place;  and  the  opinion  of  those  who  believe  there  is  a  local  heaven,  as 
well  as  a  glorious  change  of  state,  into  which  the  people  of  God  enter, 
when  "  mortality  is  swallowed  up  of  life." 

The  favourers  of  the  former  of  these  opinions  reason  thus — There  is 
nothing  more  necessary,  say  they,  to  our  immediate  perception  of  an 
unveiled  Deity,  and  entering  into  the  society  of  other  spirits,  whether 
Iiappy  or  miserable,  than  that  the  soul  should  be  disencumbered  of  the 
body.  God  is  every  where  present;  and  for  aught  we  know,  every  part 
of  creation  may  likewise  be  peopled  with  spiritual  inhabitants.  By  the 
laws  of  our  present  existence,  we  can  neither  converse  with  them  nor 
perceive  them.  It  may  be  the  law  of  their  existence,  too,  if  such  be 
the  will  of  the  Creator,  that  they  can  neither  perceive  nor  converse 
with  us,  beyond  what  he  on  special  occasions  may  permit.  The  walls 
of  flesh  and  sensemay  cutoff  all  ordinary  communication  between  them 
and  us;  and  the  throwing  down  of  these  barriers  may  be  all  that  is  ne- 
cessary to  an  immediate  intercourse  with  them.  This  idea  they  thus 
illustrate — Imagine  that  you  had  been  confined,  for  the  whole  of  life, 
to  a  single  apartment,  through  which  only  a  few  dim  rays  of  light  were 
permitted  to  penetrate,  at  five  small  avenues.  Imagine  that  all  you 
knew  of  the  sun,  the  face  of  nature,  and  the  busy  scenes  that  were  pass- 
ing around  you,  was  from  some  imperfect  report — Then  imagine  that, 
in  a  moment  of  time,  the  walls  of  this  obscure  dwelling  were  all  to  be 
removed;  and  the  sun,  the  face  of  nature,  and  the  busy  scenes  of  life, 
of  which  you  never  before  had  any  perception,  nor  could  form  any  cor- 
rect notion,  were  to  be  ushered  at  once  on  your  naked  view.  Into  what 
a  new  and  unknown  world  would  you  find  yourself  transported?  Some- 
thing like  this  may  take  place  at  death.  Our  earthly  house  of  this  taber- 
nacle is  a  dark  abode.  Through  five  avenues,  denominated  senses,  we 
gain  some  obscure  intelligence  of  invisible  beings,  with  which  we  may 
be  all  surrounded.  But  when,  at  the  moment  of  death,  the  present  ob- 
structions shall  be  removed,  the  sensible  perception  of  God,  like  the 
rays  of  the  unclouded  sun,  may  burst  upon  us  at  once;  we  may  perceive 
ourselves  to  be  in  the  midst  of  a  countless  host  of  active  intelligences; 
we  may  be  able  to  converse  with  them  and  they  with  us:  and  if  we  die 


Tlie  J\*ature,  ^c.  of  the  Heavenly  State.  71 

reconciled  to  God   and  loving  him  supremely,   this  will  make  our 
heaven. 

The  advocates  of  the  latter  opinion,  to  which  I  have  referred,  freely 
admit  the  possibility,  and  perhaps  the  probability,  of  all  that  you 
have  just  heard.  But  they  say  that  the  representations  of  holy  scrip- 
ture clearly  teach  us  far  more  than  this;  and  ought  to  leave  us  in  no 
doubt  that  there  is  a  local  heaven.  They  remark,  that  although  the 
language  used  in  relation  to  this  subject  is  figurative,  yet  the  figures 
themselves,  as  well  as  some  descriptions  not  figurative,  manifestly 
refer  lo place;  that  a  house,  a  mansion,  a  temple,  a  city,  a  country,  and 
many  other  terms,  can  scarcely  convey  any  meaning  whatever,  if  they 
have  no  reference  to  locality;  that  the  same  idea  is  necessarily  implied 
in  what  we  read  of  angels  conducting  a  departed  spirit  to  the  heavenly 
felicity;  and  especially  that  there  Qiiicst  be  a  place,  in  which  the  trans- 
lated body  of  our  blessed  Lord,  and  the  bodies  of  Enoch  and  Elijah, 
now  reside;  and  to  which  the  glorified  bodies  of  all  the  saints  will  be 
gathered,  after  the  resurrection  and  the  final  judgment.  In  a  word,  that 
almost  the  whole  of  what  we  are  taught  in  the  sacred  pages,  relative  to 
the  future  state  of  the  righteous,  leads  us  to  believe  that  in  the  immen- 
sity of  space,  there  is  a  region,  or  a  place,  where  God  is  now  mani- 
fested in  his  brightest  glories  to  the  blessed  inhabitants;  and  where  the 
whole  of  those  who  are  redeemed  from  among  men  will,  with  the  holy 
angels,  eventually  constitute  the  general  assembly  and  church  of  the 
first-born,  whose  names  are  written  in  heaven.  This  appears  to  me  to 
be  perfectly  conclusive,  and  to  leave  no  ground  for  rational  controversy, 
whether  heaven  be  a  state  or  a  place.  We  are,  indeed,  not  told  where 
this  local  heaven  exists,  and  therefore  all  speculations  and  conjectures 
on  that  topic,  would  perhaps  better  be  forborne.  But  this  forms  no 
objection  to  the  fact  of  its  existence.  It  is  analogous  to  all  that  is  re- 
vealed on  this  subject,  that  a  part  should  be  told,  and  a  part  be  con- 
cealed. It  ought  ever  to  be  kept  in  mind,  that  it  is  contrary  to  all  just 
principles  of  reasoning,  to  refuse  our  assent  to  facts,  suitably  authenti- 
cated, because,  if  we  admit  them,  they  will  involve  some  things  that 
we  cannot  fully  explain. 

We  further  remark  in  regard  to  the  subject  before  us,  that  our  being 
unable  to  form  distinct  ideas  of  the  operations  of  our  souls  in  a  sepa- 
rate state,  is  no  argument  at  all  against  the  existence  of  such  a  state; 
any  more  than  it  is  an  argument  against  the  being  of  a  God,  and  of 
holy  angels,  that  we  can  have  no  adequate  conception  of  the  mode  of 
their  existence,  and  of  the  manner  in  which  spirits  converse,  or  com- 
municate their  thoughts.  Neither  is  the  greatness  of  the  change  which 
must  pass  upon  us,  in  order  to  our  entering  on  the  heavenly  state,  any 
reason  why  we  should  not  believe  in  its  reality.  Changes,  indeed, 
which  bear  a  strong  analogy  to  this,  and  which,  for  myself,  I  fully  be- 
lieve were  chiefly  intended  to  illustrate  it,  are  constantly  presented  to 
our  observation.  Ten  thousand  beautiful  forms  of  animated  nature 
are,  at  one  period  of  the  year,  flying  v/ith  rapid  motion  through  every 
region  of  the  air,  which,  at  another  period,  are  dormant  reptiles  in  the 
bosom  of  the  earth,  or  sluggish  worms  on  its  surface,  with  scarcely  the 
symptoms  of  life.  Now  the  change  from  the  mortal  to  the  glorified  or 
angelic  state,  is  scarcely  greater  than  this,  nor  the  transition  more 
wonderful.  And  what  we  see  and  know  to  be  true  in  the  nature  of  an 
insect,  shall  we  think  to  be  impossible,  or  improbable,  in  the  nature  of 
man.^ 

II.  The  sacred  scriptures  teach  us  that  all  the  natural  appetites,  and 


72  The  JV*atiire,  Sfc.  of  the  Heavenly  State, 

all  the  pains  and  sufferings  which  are  experienced  in  the  present  life, 
will,  in  the  heavenly  state,  be  known  no  more.  Material  sustenance 
cannot  be  necessary  to  the  support  of  an  immaterial  and  immortal 
soul.  When  therefore  the  spirit  shall  cease  to  be  an  inhabitantof  "  the 
earthly  house  of  this  tabernacle,"  all  those  appetites,  which  are  seated 
in  our  animal  nature,  and  necessary  for  its  preservation,  will  cease  at 
once.  And  when,  at  the  resurrection,  the  happy  spirit  shall  again  re- 
animate its  sleeping  dust,  that  dust  shall  be  so  organized,  by  the  power 
and  wisdom  of  God,  whose  will  constitutes  all  the  laws  of  nature,  as 
that  "it  shall  hunger  no  more  neither  thirst  any  more."  These  senti- 
ments are  sustained  by  the  plainest  declarations  of  the  word  of  God, 
not  only  in  the  expression  just  repeated,  but  in  the  following  particular 
and  beautiful  passage  of  the  same  apostle  on  whose  words  I  discourse. 
"  But  some  man  will  say — How  are  the  dead  raised  up.^  and  with  what 
body  do  they  come.^  Thou  fool,  that  which  thou  sowest  is  not  quick- 
ened except  it  die — But  God  giveth  it  a  body  as  it  hath  pleased  him, 
and  to  every  seed  his  own  body."  After  which,  in  the  same  connexion, 
he  adds — "There  are  also  celestial  bodies,  and  bodies  terrestrial:  the 
glory  of  the  celestial  is  one,  and  the  glory  of  the  terrestrial  is  another: 
So  also  is  the  resurrection  of  the  dead:  It  is  sown  in  corruption,  it  is 
raised  in  incorruption:  It  is  sown  in  weakness,  it  is  raised  in  power: 
It  is  sown  a  natural  body,  it  is  raised  a  spiritual  body.  There  is  a  na- 
tural body,  and  there  is  a  spiritual  body."  Here,  we  see  the  apostle  is 
particularly  careful  to  mention,  and  to  repeat,  that  there  is  a  spiritual 
body — that  is,  a  body  which  shall  possess  many  of  the  properties  of  a 
spirit,  and  which  shall  not  hinder  any  of  its  operations — which  may 
pass,  quicker  than  a  ray  of  light,  to  any  part  of  the  creation  of  God, 
whither  the  will  of  its  Maker,  or  his  service,  may  require  its  presence. 
This  spiritual  body  will  feel  none  of  the  wants  or  pains  to  which 
our  mortal  bodies  are  now  subjected.  Ah!  my  brethren,  Lazarus, 
there,  wants  no  more  the  morsel  which  here  he  solicited  in  vain. 
There  shall  the  emancipated  spirit  of  every  humble  Christian,  who  in 
this  world  may  have  endured  hunger  and  thirst,  cold  and  nakedness, 
poverty  and  wretchedness,  be  freed  forever  from  the  pressure  of  its 
wants,  and  know  the  superior  pleasure  which  arises  from  perfect  hap- 
piness, contrasted  with  constant  suffering.  Bodily  infirmities,  often 
productive  of  spiritual  distress,  seem  in  many  instances  to  be,  as  it 
were,  the  furniture y  inseparably  attached  to  the  earthly  tabernacle  of  the 
saint.  But  when  the  soul — the  temporary  tenant — shall  resign  its 
possession,  it  will  be  forever  quit  of  all  these  inconveniences.  Enter- 
ing the  house  not  made  with  hands  eternal  in  the  heavens,  none  of 
these  incumbrances  will  there  be  found.  There  the  martyr  who  has 
yielded  his  body  to  the  flame  or  torture,  for  the  cause  of  Christ,  will 
find  himself  eternally  secure  of  that  undiminishable  bliss,  for  which 
he  despised  the  sufferings  of  the  body.  There  the  patient  Christian, 
who  has  languished  out  a  wearisome  life  of  sickness,  or  infirmity,  or  las- 
situde, will  find  immortal  health,  activity,  and  vigour — there  the  labours 
and  inquietudes,  and  perplexities,  and  griefs,  and  sorrows,  and  cares  of 
the  believer,  will  find  a  termination  final  and  eternal — "There  the  wicked 
cease  from  troubling,  and  there  the  weary  are  at  rest — And  God  shall 
wipe  away  all  tears  from  their  eyes;  and  there  shall  be  no  more  death, 
neither  sorrow  nor  crying,  neither  shall  there  be  any  more  pain:  for 
the  former  things  are  passed  away."  Yes — the  former  things  shall  be 
passed  away  forever.  Every  clog  and  hindrance,  every  oppression  and 
embarrassment,  every  difficulty  and  discouragement,  which  the  Chris- 


The  J\*ature,  Sfc.  of  the  Heavenly  State.  73 

tian  feels  from  a  frail  body  and  a  state  of  trial,  shall  then  be  left  far 
behind.  The  unfettered  soul,  escaping  from  all  the  entanglements  and 
vexations  of  flesh  and  sense,  like  an  eagle  broken  loose  from  her  toils, 
shall  wing  her  unencumbered  rapid  flight  to  heaven,  and  rove  and  bask 
with  joyful  liberty  amidst  the  sunbeams  of  eternal  day. 

III.  The  state  of  heavenly  happiness  will  be  a  state  of  perpetual  and 
perfect  freedom  from  all  sin.  This,  indeed,  is  the  foundation  of  that 
complete  deliverance  from  suffering  and  sorrow,  which  we  have  just 
considered.  From  a  state  of  imperfect  moral  obedience,  pain  is  never 
excluded.  But  where  holiness  is  complete,  there  happiness  will  like- 
wise be  perfect.  And  this  we  are  assured,  will  be  the  condition  of 
every  soul  which  shall  be  admitted  to  the  heavenly  mansions.  We  are 
told  "  there  shall  in  no  wise  enter  into  it  any  thing  that  defileth,  neither 
whatsoever  worketh  abomination,  or  maketh  a  lie."  This  must,  in 
the  nature  of  things,  be  necessary  to  complete  the  happiness  of  a  holy 
soul.  Being  supremely  and  habitually  attached  to  God  and  holiness, 
it  never  could  be  entirely  satisfied,  if  sin,  the  opposites  of  these,  were 
not  totally  destroyed.  So  long  as  God  was  offended,  and  his  law  vio- 
lated, there  regret  and  sorrow  would  necessarily  succeed.  This  it  is 
which  mars  all  the  Christian's  happiness  upon  earth — this  it  is  which 
mixes  grief  with  all  his  joy.  The  remainders  of  sin;  the  awful  mea- 
sure of  indwelling  corruption  which  cleaves  to  him;  the  body  of  sin 
and  death  with  which  he  is  clothed,  depress  his  soul;  and  as  the  apostle 
remarks  in  the  verses  which  succeed  the  text,  make  him  groan,  being 
burdened,  "  earnestly  desiring  to  be  clothed  upon  with  his  house  which 
is  from  heaven."  And  blessed  be  God,  when  the  time  of  release  ar- 
rives, the  Christian's  enemies  shall  be  able  to  annoy  him  no  more  for- 
ever— they  cannot  follow  him  beyond  the  grave — that  is  the  barrier 
which  they  can  never  pass.  All  those  evil  propensities,  desires,  and 
passions,  which  have  so  often  assaulted  or  seduced  the  soul;  all  those 
attachments  to  sensual  and  worldly  objects,  which  have  interfered  with 
its  spiritual  exercises;  all  that  coldness,  sloth,  indifference,  unbelief, 
want  of  inclination  and  animation  for  the  service  of  God,  which  made 
it  drag  so  heavily  along  its  Christian  course;  all  the  allurements  of  the 
world,  which  have  so  often  drawn  it  away  from  communion  with  God, 
and  the  enjoyment  of  his  presence  and  favour;  all  doubt,  and  distrust, 
and  fear;  all  the  dark  veils  which  have  separated  between  the  mind  and 
the  clear  perception  of  divine  truth;  all  the  temptations  and  tormenting 
suggestions  of  the  great  enemy  of  souls;  will  now  have  completely  and 
finally  lost  their  influence.  Not  one  of  these  disturbers  shall  ever  be 
able  to  intrude  on  the  happy  soul  that  arrives  at  the  heavenly  rest. 
Oh,  desirable  deliverance!  oh,  enviable  state!  to  serve  and  enjoy  God 
with  perfect  freedom,  no  more  assailed  by  any  enemy,  no  more  polluted 
by  any  sin.  What  Christian  but  in  the  contemplation  is  ready  to 
spring  forward  by  anticipation  to  the  happy  moment,  and  think  the 
time  tedious  which  separates  him  from  so  desirable  an  event. 

IV.  The  society  of  heaven  will  prove  a  source  of  high  enjoyment,  to 
every  glorified  saint.  Of  this  we  have  clear  intimations  in  the  "  ora- 
cles of  God."  "  Many,  (said  the  Saviour,)  shall  come  from  the  east  and 
the  west,  and  shall  sit  down  with  Abraham,  and  Isaac,  and  Jacob,  in  the 
kingdom  of  heaven."  And  the  beloved  disciple,  in  his  apocalyptic 
vision,  "  beheld,  and  lo!  a  great  multitude  which  no  man  could  num- 
ber, of  all  nations,  and  kindreds,  and  people,  and  tongues,  stood  before 
the  throne  and  before  the  Lamb,  clothed  in  white  robes,  and  palms  in 
their  hands;  and  cried  with  a  loud  voice,  saying,  salvation  to  our  God, 

K 


^4  Tlie  JVature,  ^c.  of  the  Heavenly  State. 

which  sitteth  upon  the  throne,  and  unto  the  Lamb" — In  his  very  na- 
ture, man  is  formed  for  society,  and  with  plain  indications  also,  that  his 
Maker  intended  that  he  should  derive  both  his  happiness  and  improve- 
ment, from  an  interchange  of  thoughts  and  feelings  with  his  fellow 
men.  All  analogy  would  lead  us  to  expect,  that  this  law  of  his  nature 
would  not  change  with  his  change  of  state;  and  the  passages  of  sacred 
writ  just  recited,  with  many  others  of  similar  import,  clearly  inform  us, 
that  there  will  be  social  acts  and  communications  in  tlie  heavenly 
world.  Those  with  whom  departed  saints  have  lived  in  the  greatest 
intimacy,  and  the  most  endeared  union,  and  with  whom  they  have  tra- 
velled the  thorny  path  of  human  life — those  with  whom  they  have 
here  mingled  their  warm  affections,  and  who  have  shared  in  each  other's 
affections,  sorrows  and  joys,  will  doubtless  recognise  each  other,  and 
be  united  in  purer  fellowship  in  heaven,  than  they  ever  knew  on  earth. 
Together  they  may  recollect  and  recount  the  feelings  and  fears,  the 
pleasures  and  the  pains,  the  darkness  and  the  doubts  of  this  shadowy 
state;  and  together  rejoice  that  darkness  and  doubt  have  now  vanished 
forever.  Who,  my  brethren,  can  estimate  the  pleasure  of  meeting  in 
glory,  those  who  have  been  dearest  to  them  here  below,  and  who  per- 
haps shall  be  the  first  to  welcome  them  to  the  mansions  above?  To 
this  it  is  no  valid  objection,  that,  in  the  present  state,  strong  natural  af- 
fections often  subsist  in  the  bosoms  of  the  pious,  towards  some  who 
live  and  die  in  hardened  guilt  and  impenitence.  Natural  affection  has 
its  use  in  this  life,  in  powerfully  urging  the  pious  to  employ  every 
mean  and  effort  to  reclaim  the  wicked.  But  in  heaven,  we  have  rea- 
son to  believe  that  all  affection  for  every  unholy  being,  of  whatever 
kind  or  character,  will  be  entirely  and  forever  extinguished,  while  love 
to  all  who  bear  the  image  of  God,  will,  to  the  highest  degree,  be  in- 
creased and  purified.  It  is  even  now  a  transporting  contemplation,  to 
think  of  the  sublime  enjoyment  which  will  arise  from  being  admitted 
to  the  society  of  all  the  worthies  of  the  earth,  of  all  ages  and  of  every 
clime-— of  forming  an  acquaintance  and  fellowship  with  them — of 
knowing  from  them  what  they  were  on  earth,  and  what  they  have  be- 
conie  in  heaven.  Adam  and  Enoch,  Abraham  and  Elijah,  David  and 
Isaiah,  prophets  and  apostles,  Peter  and  Paul,  martyrs  and  reformers, 
will  ye  not  recount  to  listening  myriads,  what  once  ye  were,  what  here 
were  your  thoughts  and  plans,  your  labours  and  your  trials;  and  what 
in  heaven  ye  have  learned,  beyond  every  conception  which  ye  formed, 
till  ye  reached  the  celestial  abodes!     For  I  remark 

V.  The  soul  of  every  saint  in  a  glorified  state,  will  be  placed  in  cir- 
cumstances the  most  favourable  to  the  acquisition  of  knowledge. 
There  is  in  the  human  mind  a  natural  and  insatiable  thirst,  to  examine 
and  know  the  things  w^iich  are  offered  to  its  observation.  But  In  the 
present  state,  there  are  many  obstacles  to  the  gratification  of  this  de- 
sire. Many  have  few  advantages  for  making  progress  in  knowledge. 
Our  senses  themselves,  while  they  assist  our  inquiries  to  a  certain 
length,  do  then,  by  their  grossness,  prevent  a  farther  advance.  Some 
things,  it  was  evidently  intended  that  we  should  not  understand  in  the 
present  state;  and  human  life  itself  is  so  short,  that  the  career  of  our 
inquiries,  however  happily  commenced,  is  terminated  almost  as  soon  as 
it  is  begun.  The  observation  of  these  circumstances,  led  even  those 
who  were  not  favoured  with  the  Viirht  of  revelation,  to  conclude  the 
soul  immortal;  to  conclude  that  the  all-wise  Creator,  who  makes  no- 
thing in  vain,  had  not  formed  a  being  capable  of  endless  improvement, 
to  be  struck  out  of  existence,  as  soon  as  that  improvement  had  well 


The  J\"ature,  ^'c.  of  the  Heavenly  State.  75 

commenced;  but  that  in  a  future  world  the  human  capacities  and 
powers  should  find  space  for  their  expansion,  and  have  their  desires 
fulfilled.  This  reasoning,  the  sure  word  of  revelation  explicitly  con- 
firms. Hear  the  apostle,  on  whose  declaration  I  discourse.  "  For 
(says  he)  we  know  in  part,  and  we  prophesy  in  part:  but  when  that 
which  is  perfect  is  come,  then  that  which  is  in  part  shall  be  done 
away.  When  I  was  a  child,  I  spake  as  a  child,  I  understood  as  a 
child,  I  thought  as  a  child;  but  when  I  became  a  man,  I  put  away  child- 
ish things.  For  nov/  we  see  through  a  glass  darkly,  but  then  face  to 
face:  now  I  know  in  part,  but  then  shall  I  know,  even  as  also  I  am 
known."  According  to  this  representation,  the  human  soul  at  present 
is  but  in  the  bud  of  being;  the  present  is  a  mere  state  of  infancy  and 
tutelage,  in  which  the  knowledge  and  conceptions  of  the  wisest  mortals 
are  as  much  inferior  to  those  of  a  glorified  spirit,  as  the  views  and 
comprehension  of  a  child  are  different  from  those  of  a  man;  or  as  the 
knowledge  of  an  object,  seen  through  a  dim  and  obscuring  medium  at 
a  distance,  is  inferior  to  that  which  is  obtained  by  a  naked,  clear,  and  im- 
mediate view:  and  that  hereafter  such  a  view  shall  open  on  the  soul 
of  the  saint,  and  the  things  of  God  shall  be  known  by  him,  in  somewhat 
the  same  manner  as  they  are  known  to  the  infinite  mind.  Of  this 
knowledge  I  will  mention,  although  I  can  do  little  more  than  name, 
some  of  the  principal  subjects. 

1.  It  will  be  a  knowledge  of  God  himself.  Here  the  conceptions  which 
we  acquire  of  the  Deity,  are  very  imperfect.  Our  souls  are,  as  it  were, 
sensualized;  and  the  notions  which  we  form  of  an  immaterial  being, 
are,  as  already  noticed,  very  inadequate.  But  when  the  glass  of  sense 
shall  be  removed,  and  spirit  shall  perceive  and  converse  with  spirit, 
then  "  we  shall  know  even  as  also  we  are  known."  We  shall  have  per- 
ceptions of  the  essential  nature  of  God,  and  of  his  immediate  presence 
and  ineffable  glory,  unspeakably  different  from,  and  superior  to,  those 
which  we  now  possess.  We  shall  have  something  answerable  to  our 
expression  of  seeing  him  "  face  to  face;"  and  this,  I  conceive,  will  be 
one  of  the  radical  causes  of  the  happiness  of  heaven.  There  is  much 
in  the  word  of  life,  which  indicates  the  holy  pleasure  which  will  arise 
from  the  clear  knowledge  of  God — the  standard  of  all  excellence  and 
perfection — and  from  dwelling  in  his  sensible  presence.  There,  proba- 
bly, we  shall  acquire  a  much  better  conception,  than  we  can  now  ob- 
tain, of  the  union  and  distinction  of  persons  in  the  divine  nature; 
though  the  full  comprehension  of  this  may  transcend  the  capacities  of 
angels,  and  exceed  the  bounds  of  created  intelligence.  There  we  shall 
certainly  know  more  of  the  attributes  of  the  Deity,  than  here  we  can  com- 
prehend. This  will,  no  doubt,  form  a  principal  part  of  the  employ- 
ment of  every  saint  in  heaven,  as  it  constitutes  much  of  his  holy  plea- 
sure here  on  earth.  Here  his  progress  is  little,  there  it  will  be  incon- 
ceivably great.  There  his  soul  will  launch,  boldly  and  delightfully,  on 
the  unbounded  ocean  of  divine  excellence,  exploring  regions  still  new 
and  unknown  before,  but  without  being  able,  in  its  utmost  progress,  to 
reach  the  shores  of  infinite  perfection. 

2.  The  works  of  God  will  be  better  known  to  the  departed  and  happy 
soul,  than  they  can  be  on  this  side  the  grave.  It  is  by  the  works  of 
God,  that  his  attributes  are  manifested  in  this  world;  and  they  will 
doubtless  serve  the  same  purpose  in  the  regions  of  unclouded  intelli- 
gence and  bliss.  There,  it  may  be,  beatified  spirits  will  learn  his  tvis- 
dom^  by  being  instructed  into  the  nice  and  minute  organization  of  the 
most  subtle  parts  of  creation;  by  seeing  the  first  source  and  spring  of 


7&  The  JSTature,  ^c,  of  the  Heavenly  State. 

those  that  are  called  the  laws  of  nature;  by  being  shown  the  connexion 
between  matter  and  spirit^  and  many  things  of  which  at  present  we 
have  no  conception.  There  we  may  learn  his  poiver^  by  contemplating 
more  fully  the  myriads  of  worlds  and  systems  with  which  he  has  filled 
immeasurable  space;  by  seeing  how  they  are  connected  with,  or  related 
to  each  other;  and  it  may  be,  by  roving  free  and  unconfined  amongst 
them  all.  There  we  may  perceive  his  infinite  goodness^  in  the  innu- 
merable orders  of  beings  with  which  he  has  peopled  these  wide  domi- 
nions, and  the  provision  he  has  made  for  their  happiness  and  improve- 
ment. It  has  been  suggested  by  a  pious  and  ingenious  writer,  that  per- 
haps the  souls  of  the  just  will  pursue,  in  heaven,  their  favourite  and 
peculiar  contemplations  here  on  earth.  What  degree  of  truth  there 
may  be  in  this,  or  what  will  be  the  mode  and  the  measure  of  our  know- 
ledge in  regard  to  the  works  of  God,  we  cannot  certainly  pronounce; 
but  that  this  knowledge  will  be  unspeakably  increased,  we  have  ground 
for  the  fullest  confidence. 

3.  The  government  of  God  will  be  more  perfectly  understood  in  hea- 
ven, than  it  ever  is  on  earth.  Of  this  there  are,  I  think,  numerous  and 
clear  intimations  from  Scripture,  as  well  as  from  reason.  To  our  pre- 
sent contemplations,  clouds  and  darkness  are  often  round  about  the  ways 
of  God;  but  there  we  shall  see  that  justice  and  judgment  are  the  habita- 
tion of  his  throne — There  we  may  learn  more  of  the  divine  purposes  or 
decrees,  than  we  can  now  penetrate — We  may  see  more  clearly  how  sin 
entered  the  creation  of  God,  while  the  creature  was  free  and  guilty,  and 
the  Creator  holy  and  just  in  the  execution  of  his  own  infinite  plans. 
There  we  may  understand  the  connexion  between  the  governing  influ- 
ence of  God,  and  the  perfect  liberty  of  the  creature.  These  are  sub- 
jects which,  I  apprehend,  were  not  intended  to  be  fully  known  in  the 
present  state;  and  to  which  the  apostle  might  refer  when  he  said,  "I 
see  darkly" — but  which  he  expected  to  see  clearly  in  a  better  world — 
There,  too,  may  those  inexplicable  and  trying  events  of  Providence, 
which  now  perplex  and  distress  thee,  oh  believer  1  be  all  fully  explain- 
ed, and  the  wisdom,  goodness,  and  kindness  of  that  which  at  present 
seems  so  dark  and  hard,  be  conspicuously  and  joyfully  beheld. 

VI.  The  plan  of  redemption,  the  character  and  purpose  of  the  Re- 
deemer, and  the  riches  of  his  inheritance  in  the  saints,  will,  in  heaven, 
be  seen  in  unclouded  glory.  To  this  place  I  have  reserved  what  might 
have  been  introduced  when  I  spoke  of  the  attributes  of  the  Deity — I 
mean  the  infinite  grace^  mercy^  and  condescension^  of  our  God.  These 
shine  only  in  the  work  of  redemption:  And  Christians,  when  you  ar- 
rive at  Mount  Zion  above,  your  souls  will  have  views  of  these,  of  which 
at  present  you  can  have  little  knowledge.  "  For  eye  hath  not  seen,  nor 
ear  heard,  neither  have  entered  into  the  heart  of  man,  the  things 
which  God  hath  prepared  for  them  that  love  him."  Oh,  with  what  a 
transport  of  holy  rapture,  will  you  there  meditate  on  the  love  of  God 
in  Christ  Jesus  our  Lord!  You  will  enter  deep  into  it,  and  try  to  search 
its  infinite  extent.  You  will  learn,  perhaps,  from  the  immediate  com- 
munications of  the  Saviour  himself,  the  mysteries  of  his  wonderful 
work  of  redemption.  He  may  explain  to  you  the  nature  of  the  cove- 
nant, which  took  place  in  the  cabinet  of  heaven  before  the  birth  of 
time,  in  which  his  people  were  given  to  him  in  promise,  and  of  the  fruits 
of  which  you  will  be  then  receiving.  He  may  give  you  to  understand 
how  he  left  the  bosom  of  the  Father,  how  he  united  the  divine  with  the 
human  nature,  and  how,  in  this  connexion,  he  executed  the  amazing 
plan.     He  may  explain  to  you  the  awful  agony  of  his  holy  soul  in  the 


The  JSTature,  ^'c.  of  the  Heavenly  State,  77 

garden  of  Gethsemane,  and  when  on  the  cross  he  cried,  "My  God,  my 
God,  why  hast  thou  forsaken  me" — Passing  to  the  effects  of  his  work, 
he  may  show  the  triumphs  of  his  love,  in  making  you  the  happy  sub- 
jects of  it  by  his  all-conquering  grace;  and  in  bringing  you  safely,  in 
despite  of  all  your  enemies,  to  his  blissful  presence.  Then  he  may  un- 
fold to  you  how  the  glory  of  God  is  intended  to  shine  through  this  work 
of  heavenly  wonder,  and  the  attributes  of  God  to  be  illustrated  by  it, 
before  all  creation,  and  to  all  eternity.  Oh,  brethren  I  we  are  assured 
that  "  we  shall  see  him  as  he  is" — Yes,  we  shall  see  the  Saviour.  We 
shall  look  on  his  blessed  and  gloriousperson;  and  "  we  shall  be  like  him,'* 
when  we  thus  see  him  as  he  is.  Our  souls  shall  drink  in  the  astonish- 
ing ideas  of  his  grace  and  love;  they  shall  ponder  the  mighty  subject; 
they  shall  labour  on  in  the  heavenly  meditation  with  increasing  delight; 
they  shall  adore  and  bless  his  name;  they  shall  ascribe  to  his  grace 
their  noblest  praises;  they  shall  attribute  all  to  him;  they  shall  give 
him  thanks  in  his  immediate  presence,  and  before  the  foot  of  his  throne, 
in  heaven,  for  all  the  unutterable  riches  of  redeeming  love  and  mercy. 
Faith,  brethren,  will  there  be  turned  into  vision;  and  the  blessed  Re- 
deemer, to  whom  we  now  look — and  so  often  feebly  look  by  faith — 
shall  there  be  seen  without  a  veil,  on  his  throne  of  power  and  glory. 
But  I  am  anticipating  what  I  propose  to  mention 

VII.  That  the  knowledge  acquired  in  heaven,  will  not  be  merely  spe- 
culative, but  such  as  will  touch  all  the  springs  of  holy  joy  and  ecstacy. 
There  is  a  pleasure  which  the  mind  always  receives  from  the  simple 
acquisition  of  knowledge,  or  the  discovery  and  contemplation  of  truth. 
But  beside  this,  there  is  a  peculiar  pleasure,  which  arrises  from  as- 
certaining certain  truths,  in  which,  from  any  circumstances,  the  mind 
had  been  deeply  interested,  and  strongly  desirous  that  they  should 
be  found  to  be,  what  they  are,  at  length,  discovered  to  be  in  fact.  Such 
will  be  the  nature  of  every  newl)  opening  view  of  truth,  which  will 
break  on  the  mind  of  the  saint  in  the  heavenly  world.  It  will  be  a 
truth  which  will  awaken  all  the  most  exquisite  sensibilities  of  his  soul. 
He  will  feel  a  holy  and  inexpressible  delight,  in  perceiving  every  thing 
which  his  growing  powers  will  enable  him  to  comprehend.  The 
grosser  passions  will  no  doubt  be  all  extinct;  but  the  spiritual  passions, 
if  I  may  so  call  them,  will  be  sublimed,  and  will  receive  new  capaci- 
ties of  pleasure  and  gratification.  Much  is  said  in  the  word  of  God, 
on  the  sacred  excitement,  which  will  be  given  to  the  soul  in  the  celestial 
mansions.  Every  thing  in  the  Bible  tends  to  show  that  heaven  will  not 
be  a  state  merely  of  increasing  perception,  however  desirable,  but  of  di- 
vine animation  and  transport.  Think,  O  Christian!  of  thy  happiest 
hour;  think  of  an  hour  in  which  it  has  been  given  thee  to  know  a  sacred 
serenity  of  spirit,  in  the  possession  of  that  "  peace  of  God  which  passelh 
all  understanding;"  an  hour  when  a  still,  and  sweet,  and  solemn  eleva- 
tion of  soul,  in  the  contemplation  of  thy  God  and  Saviour,  made  thee 
a  partaker  of  "  the  joy  of  the  Holy  Ghost" — That  probably  is  the 
nearest  resemblance  thou  canst  have  on  earth,  of  the  delights  of  hea- 
ven. But  better,  infinitely  better  than  that,  in  degree  and  purity,  will 
be  all  the  hours  that  shall  carry  forward  thy  existence  in  the  mansions 
above.  And  this  enjoyment,  it  must  be  remembered,  will  never  satiate, 
or  weary  the  glorified  spirit — It  will  be  ever  fresh,  and  new,  and  vigor- 
ous, through  all  the  periods  of  an  endless  duration.  We  know  that  mental 
and  spiritual  pleasures,  even  in  this  world,  are  in  their  nature  the  most 
durable.  They  do  not  give  an  impetuous  or  sudden  gust  of  gratifica- 
tion, like  sensual  delights — followed  often  by  a  sense  of  repletion  or 


7S  The  JSTature,  ^e.  of  the  Heavenly  State, 

disgust.  Mental  pleasures  may  be  long  continued;  and  the  fatigue 
which  at  length  ensues,  is  the  fatigue  of  the  body,  which  clouds,  and 
depresses,  and  enfeebles  the  mind.  But  in  heaven,  the  soul  will  expe- 
rience no  hindrance  from  the  body.  She  will  rise  in  all  her  native 
vigour  to  the  paradise  of  God;  and  when  she  resumes  her  body  at  the 
resurrection  of  the  just,  it  will  be,  as  we  have  seen,  a  spiritual  body, 
which  will  aid,  and  not  obstruct,  her  every  exercise  and  enjoyment. 
The  engagements  of  heaven,  we  doubt  not,  will  be  various;  but,  "  Ho- 
liness to  the  Lord,"  will  be  inscribed  on  them  all;  and  redeeming  love 
and  sovereign  grace  will  be  the  favourite  theme,  on  which  all  the  ran- 
somed of  Adam's  race  will  dwell  with  expanded  powers,  and  with  in- 
satiable and  untiring  bliss. 

Finally — The  joys  of  heaven  will  be  eternal.  This  is  the  considera- 
tion which  gives  them  their  highest  value.  Here  our  best  enjoy- 
ments are  short  and  transitory;  and  the  recollection  that  they  must 
be  so,  and  that  they  are  to  be  succeeded  by  new  and  painful  conflicts, 
often  abates  them  while  they  last.  But  in  heaven  there  will  be  no  fear 
of  any  change,  or  any  termination  of  the  felicity  experienced.  On  the 
contrary,  an  endless  increase,  we  have  reason  to  believe,  will  be 
anticipated  and  realized.  The  human  mind  possesses  an  expansive 
property,  by  which,  at  every  step  of  improvement,  it  becomes  capa- 
ble of  making  acquisitions  more  easily,  and  of  taking  in  a  larger 
measure  of  knowledge  and  fruition.  If  this  property  of  the  human 
soul  shall  be  retained  in  its  glorified  state,  as  we  have  every  reason 
to  believe  it  will,  who  can  estimate  its  attainm.ents  in  the  progress  of 
eternity!  May  not  the  present  capacity  of  the  highest  angel,  be  at 
length  reached,  and  exceeded  by  the  meanest  saint.^  Through  the  soul 
of  this  saint,  may  not  more  happiness  ultimately  pass,  than  has  yet 
been  experienced  by  all  the  angels  and  saints  now  in  glory!  That 
amount  is  finite,  and  in  eternity  an  individual  may  exhaust  it  all,  and 
then  an  eternity  will  be  still  in  prospect!  O  the  breadth  and  the 
length,  the  height  and  the  depth  of  this  incomprehensible  felicity!  It 
absorbs  and  overwhelms  our  minds — In  silent  meditation  let  it  sug- 
gest unutterable  thoughts. 

Long  as  I  have  detained  you,  beloved  hearers,  I  do  not  feel  at  liberty 
to  conclude  this  discourse,  wiihout  a  few  plain  practicable  observations 
on  what  you  have  heard  about  heaven. 

I.  Let  it  be  remembered  that  the  heavenly  delights  of  which  I  have 
spoken,  and  you  have  heard,  can  never  be  enjoyed  by  those  who  are 
not  prepared  for  them  in  the  temper  of  their  minds.  The  desire  of  hap- 
piness is  inseparable  from  our  nature;  and  as  heaven  is  ever  represent- 
ed as  a  state  of  consummate  and  endless  enjoyment,  unsanctified  men,  as 
well  as  others,  often  cherish  and  express  the  hope  and  the  expectation 
of  going  to  heaven  when  they  die.  But  let  them  not  be  offended,  when 
they  are  told,  that  they  really  do  not  desire  heaven.  They  do  indeed, 
with  all  sincerity  and  earnestness,  desire  happiness,  but  still  they  do 
not  desire  heaven;  that  is,  such  a  heaven  as  actually  exists,  and  which 
is  the  only  one  which  ever  can  exist,  in  all  the  universe  of  God.  The 
God  of  heaven  is  a  holy  God,  and  he  certainly  never  will  make  an  un- 
holy heaven.  Of  the  heaven  which  he  has  prepared  for  all  who  are 
qualified  to  enter  it,  perfect  holiness  characterizes  every  inhabitant  and 
every  exercise.  But  unsauctified  men  do  not  love  holiness.  Their 
taste,  disposition,  and  feelings  are  all  set  against  it,  and  will  continue 
to  be  so,  while  they  remain  unsanctified.  To  suppose  then  that  they 
desire  a  heaven   of  perfect  holiness,   is  to   suppose  that  they  desire 


The  J\*ature,  Sfc.  of  the  Heavenly  State,  79 

what  they  hate;  which  is  a  contradiction  in  terms.  No  truly,  let  them 
understand  themselves  correctly,  and  they  must  see  that  it  is  only  hap- 
piness— a  sinful  happiness — and  not  a  holy  heaven,  which  is  the  object 
of  their  desire.  And  hence  it  is  plain,  that  without  a  radical  change  of 
heart  and  affections,  they  could  not  be  happy  if  they  were  in  heaven;  for 
they  would  find  nothing  there  but  objects  of  disgust  and  aversion.  Be 
it  then  imprinted  on  the  memory  of  us  all,  and  let  every  unsanctified 
sinner  in  this  assembly  bring  his  mind  into  close  contact  with  the 
solemn  truth  proclaimed  by  the  God  of  heaven,  that  "  Without  holi- 
ness no  man  shall  see  the  Lord — Except  a  man  be  born  again — born 
of  the  Spirit — he  cannot  see  the  kingdom  of  God."  Seek  renovation 
then,  fellow  sinner — seek  the  influences  of  the  Holy  Spirit  to  renew 
you  unto  holiness — if  you  would,  on  any  rational  ground,  hope  for  heaven. 
Let  not  this  great  concern  be  delayed  for  a  single  hour,  lest  death 
overtake  you  while  you  delay,  and  you  hear  the  irreversible  decree — 
"  He  that  is  unjust  let  him  be  unjust  still;  and  he  that  is  filthy  let  him 
be  filthy  still;  and  he  that  is  righteous  let  him  be  righteous  still;  and 
he  that  is  holy  let  him  be  holy  still." 

2.  Let  the  people  of  God  be  exhorted  to  meditate  much  on  heaven. 
"  Preach  more  about  heaven — I   have  never  preached  enough   about 
heaven" — said  an  aged  and  eminent  minister  of  the  gospel,  to  a  young 
brother,  who  visited  him  on  his  death-bed.     Yes,  we  ministers  of  the 
gospel  ought  to  preach  more  than  we  are  wont  to  do  about  heaven;  and 
you,    dear    brethren    in    the  Lord,   ought    to    meditate    more — much 
more  than  I  fear  the  most  of  you  do,  on   heaven.     I  verily    believe, 
that  in  this  very  point,  the  primitive  Christians  were  chiefly  distin- 
guished from  those  of   modern  times.     They  lived  with    heaven   in 
their  eye;    and  it   was  this   that    made   them   undervalue  the  world, 
and  that  raised  them  above  the  fear  of  death,  even  in  its  most  fright- 
ful forms.     Truly  the  secret  of  martyrdom  is  here.     Let  a  man  pos- 
sess a  holy  confidence  that  death  to   him  will  be   instantly  followed 
by  the  vision  of  his  approving  Saviour,  in  all  the  glories  and  raptures 
of  the  heavenly  world,  and  he  goes  to  the  cross,  the  scaffold  or  the 
stake  with  an  unfaltering  step — yea,  with  a  triumphant  spirit — It  will 
be,  he  says,  but  a  momentary  agony,  and  it  will  introduce  me  to  eter- 
nal joys.     We,  beloved  Christian  brethren,  have  but  little  prospect  of 
being  called  to  the  trial  of  martyrdom.     Yet  we  have  our  trials;  and 
some  of  them  perhaps  more  dangerous,  for  the  very  reason  that  they 
are  less  feared,  than  were  those  of  martyrdom.    We  have  sicknesses,  and 
sorrows,  and  bereavements,  and  disappointments,  and  worldly  losses  and 
vexations  innumerable — these  on  the  one  hand — And  on  the  other,  we 
have  the  smiles,  and  the  flatteries,  and  the  ten  thousand  seductions  of  the 
world. — Now,  the  meditation  of  heaven  will  sustain  and  cheer  us  under 
the  former,  and  teach  and  enable  us  to  undervalue  and  despise  the  lat- 
ter.    By  this  meditation  we  go,  as  it  were,  from  earth  to  heaven — We 
gain  an  elevation,  from   which  when  we  look   down,  every  thing  on 
earth  appears  little.     We  breathe  a  purer  moral  atmosphere,  and  feel 
a  delightful  relief,  in  escaping  for  a  short  time  from  the  murky  air 
of  this  polluted  world.     O,   brethren,  you  know— for  I   now  speak  to 
those  who  know  it  by  experience — that  heaven  is  begun  on  earth;  and 
when  we  get  something  of  this  imperfect  heaven,  in  our  present  w^ary 
pilgrimage,  it  does  enliven  and  strengthen  us  wonderfully;  and  render 
us  superior  to  all  things  here  below.     And  as  it  is  a  holy  happiness,  it 
increases  the  spirit  of  holiness  in  our  hearts,  while  we  enjoy  it.     It 
makes   the  will  of  God  our  choice,    and   therefore  every  thing  that 


80  The.  JSTature  and  Remedy  of  Sinful  Shame. 

comes  to  us  appears  right — It  likewise  animates  us  to  all  present  duty, 
and  thus  renders  us  most  useful.  It  fills  us,  moreover,  with  a  most  ar- 
dent desire  to  take  as  many  with  us  to  hea/en  as  possible,  both  from  a 
love  to  our  fellow  men,  and  from  a  desire  to  glorify  God  our  Saviour; 
and  thus  it  consecrates  us,  with  all  that  we  have  and  are,  to  the  pro- 
motion of  the  gospel  of  Christ:  And  finally,  it  dispels  all  the  darkness 
of  death  and  the  grave,  and  puts  into  our  mouth  the  conqueror's  song 
— "  O  death  where  is  thy  sting!  O  grave  where  is  thy  victory!  The 
sting  of  death  is  sin,  and  the  strength  of  sin  is  the  law,  but  thanks  be 
to  (iod  who  giveth  us  the  victory  through  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ — 
Come  quickly — Amen — Even  so,  come  Lord  Jesus." 


SSRMOir. 

THE  NATURE  AND  REMEDY  OF  SINFUL  SHAME. 

Psalm  gxix.  C. — "  Then  shall  I  not  be  ashamed,  when  I  have  respect  unto  all  thy 
commandments." 

To  be  able  to  look  up  to  God  with  humble  confidence,  and  to  obey 
his  commands  with  freedom  and  fidelity  before  the  world,  is,  at  once, 
the  comfort  and  the  glory  of  a  Christian.  This,  however,  is  an  attain- 
ment not  to  be  made  without  a  vigorous  conflict — "For  the  fiesh  lust- 
eth  against  the  spirit  and  the  spirit  against  the  flesh,  and  these  are 
contrary  the  one  to  the  other;  so  that  ye  cannot  do  the  things  that  ye 
would."  The  pleadings  of  corrupt  nature,  conspiring  with  the  tempta- 
tions of  the  world,  and  the  suggestions  of  the  great  enemy  of  souls, 
seduce  the  Christian  to  the  omission  or  violation  of  duty;  and  thus 
deprive  him  of  the  light  of  the  divine  countenance,  and  of  firmness  and 
activity  in  the  divine  life.  The  inspired  Psalmist  seems  to  have  con- 
templated this  evil,  and  to  have  intended  to  prescribe  its  remedy,  when 
he  exclaimed,  in  the  words  of  the  text — "  Then  shall  I  not  be  ashamed, 
when  I  have  respect  unto  all  thy  commandments." — In  discoursing  on 
the  words,  therefore,  I  will,  in  reliance  on  divine  assistance,  endeavour — 

I.  To  explain  the  nature  and  operations  of  the  sinful  shame  which 
the  inspired  writer  appears  so  desirous  to  avoid. 

II.  Show  how  a  regard  to  all  God's  commandments  will  destroy  the 
existence  of  such  shame,  or  prevent  its  embarrassments. 

After  this,  a  few  practical  reflections  will  conclude  the  address. 

First,  then,  I  am  to  endeavour  to  explain  the  nature  and  operations 
of  that  shame,  which  the  sacred  writer  appears  so  desirous  to  avoid. 

Shame  has  been  defined — "  the  passion  which  is  felt  when  reputation 
is  supposed  to  be  lost."  This  is  no  doubt  the  popular  import  of  the 
term;  and  yet  it  is  not,  as  we  shall  presently  see,  the  only  sense  in  which 
it  is  used  by  the  sacred  writers.  I  would  remark,  however,  that  con- 
sidering it  merely  as  a  principle  of  the  mind,  which  renders  us  sensi- 
ble to  the  ill  opinion  of  our  fellow  men,  it  is  no  inconsiderable  guard 
on  our  virtue.  It  is,  indeed,  true,  that  this,  in  common  with  every 
other  useful  principle  of  our  nature,  may,  by  being  turned  into  a  wrong 
channel,  produce  injury  instead  of  benefit.  It  too  often  happens,  in 
fact,  that  good  men,  from  being  unduly  influenced  by  a  regard  to  the 
opinion  of  the  worldly  or  profane,  are  brought  to  be  ashamed  of  their 
duty;  and  this  is  a  part  of  the  very  evil  against  which  the  text  is  di-« 


The  jyature  and  Remedy  of  Sinful  Shame.  81 

rected.  Still,  however,  it  must  be  admitted,  that  a  sense  of  shame  is, 
in  itself,  extremely  useful,  and  when  suitably  regulated  and  rightly  di- 
rected, is  a  restraint  against  vice  and  an  incentive  to  virtue.  A  desti- 
tution of  this  principle  is  ever  considered  as  marking  the  extreme  of 
human  depravity — We  usually  join  together  th£  epithets  shameless  and 
abandoned.  The  extirpation  or  extinction  of  the  sentiment  of  shame, 
therefore,  is  by  no  means  to  be  attempted.  Our  endeavours  are  only 
to  be  directed  against  suffering  it  to  be  perverted,  and  against  laying 
ourselves  open  to  those  wounds  which  it  may  justly  inflict.  Now,  with 
this  view,  we  are  looking  for  the  origin  and  source  of  these  evils;  and 
I  think  we  shall  find  them,  by  turning  our  attention  from  the  creature 
to  the  Creator — from  man  to  God, 

In  the  sacred  writings,  the  word  we  consider  is  frequently  used  to 
denote  those  painful  feelings  of  the  mind,  which  are  produced  by  a 
conviction  of  our  offences  against  the  Majesty  of  Heaven;  especially 
when  those  offences  partake  peculiarly  of  the  nature,  or  are  seen  re- 
markably in  the  light  of  baseness,  unreasonableness,  and  ingratitude. 
Thus,  when  the  Jews,  who  had  been  mercifully  restored  from  the  Ba- 
bylonish captivity,  violated  the  command  of  the  Most  High,  by  im- 
proper connexions  with  the  idolatrous  nations,  Ezra  thus  addresses 
Jehovah-—"  Oh  my  God  I  I  blush  and  am  ashamed  to  lift  up  my  face  to 
thee  my  God,  for  our  iniquities  are  increased  over  our  heads,  and  our 
trespass  is  gone  up  unto  the  heavens" — Here  shame  is  used  to  denote 
little  else  than  the  operations  of  conscience;  or  the  oppression  of  soul 
which  is  produced  by  the  sense  of  being  guilty  and  vile  in  the  sight  of 
a  holy  God:  And  you  will  carefully  observe,  that  the  effect  of  this  is, 
the  destruction  of  all  freedom  and  confidence  in  addressing  the  Father 
of  mercies,  and  almost  of  the  hope  of  pardon  and  acceptance  with 
him.  This,  my  brethren,  is  undoubtedly  the  origin  of  the  evil  which 
the  text  contemplates.  It  takes  its  rise  from  this  point,  and  its  bane- 
ful influence  is  extended  through  a  long  train  of  unhappy  consequences. 
We  may  trace  them  thus — 

All  practical  religion  has  its  very  foundation  in  a  realizing  belief  of 
an  all-seeing  God,  who,  while  he  is  perfectly  acquainted  with  all  the 
secrets  of  the  soul,  and  with  every  action  of  life,  is  also  of  purer  eyes 
than  to  behold  any  iniquity,  but  with  detestation  and  abhorrence.  But 
the  mind,  we  say,  in  which  this  belief  and  apprehension  exists,  is  con- 
scious of  dealing  treacherously  with  the  Most  High;  conscious  that  its 
affections  are  shamefully  divided  between  him  and  inferior  objects; 
conscious  of  not  seeking  his  favour  in  secret  with  that  holy  earnestness 
which  its  value  demands;  conscious  that  its  penitence  for  sin  is  mise- 
rably imperfect;  conscious  that  hidden  lusts  and  corruptions,  not  only 
rise  and  plead  for  indulgence,  but  actually  obtain  it;  conscious  that 
certain  duties  have  been  most  criminally  neglected  and  certain  sins  al- 
lowed; conscious  of  presumptuous  sinning  against  light  and  know- 
ledge; conscious  of  repeated  violations  of  the  most  solemn  resolutions 
and  engagements;  conscious,  in  a  word,  not  merely  of  remaining  pol- 
lution, but  of  inexcusable  neglect,  unfaithfulness  and  insincerity,  in 
duty  to  God  and  devotion  to  his  service.  How,  I  ask,  can  he  whose 
mind  informs  him  of  all  this,  look  up,  with  any  confidence,  to  that 
infinite  Being  who,  he  realizes,  is  perfectly  acquainted  with  all  this 
baseness?  He  cannot  do  it: — shame  and  confusion  drive  him  away 
from  the  divine  throne.  He  fears  to  draw  near  to  God;  or  if  he  at- 
tempts it,  the  service  is  hasty  and  superficial.  The  mind  is  afraid  of 
its  own  reflections,  and  seeks  temporary  and  imperfect  ease  by  over- 

L 


82  The  JVature  and  Remedy  of  Sinful  Shame. 

looking  or  endeavouring  to  forget  its  state.  Still,  a  secret  uneasiness 
continually  preys  upon  it,  nor  will  ever  cease  to  corrode  it,  while  it  re- 
mains thus  unsettled  and  divided. 

Follow,  now,  this  victim  of  shame  before  God,  into  his  intercourse 
among  men.  Suppose  that  he  has  never  openly  professed  a  religious 
character.  Then  you  see  him  most  piteously  embarrassed,  confounded 
and  distressed.  Wicked  companions  solicit  and  endeavour  to  lead  him 
into  vice.  His  conscience  is  too  much  awake  to  permit  him  to  comply 
with  pleasure,  and  yet  he  is  sensible  of  too  much  insincerity  to  allow 
him  to  refuse  with  firmness.  He  half  refuses  and  half  complies;  and 
thus  becomes  the  scorn  of  the  licentious,  without  obtaining  the  coun- 
tenance of  the  pious.  Those  who  are  strictly  religious  regard  his 
friendship  as  uncertain;  those  who  are  openly  profane  consider  his  con- 
duct as  dastardly;  and  thus  the  hesitating  wretch  is  covered  with  shame 
before  the  world,  as  well  as  before  his  Maker. 

Or  suppose — and,  alas!  that  it  is  not  a  mere  supposition — that  the  un- 
happy state  of  mind  we  have  described,  belongs  to  one  who  publicly 
professes  to  be  a  follower  of  Christ.  How  painfully  must  he  feel  the 
inconsistency  of  his  profession,  with  the  inward  temper  of  his  heart? 
How  misgiving  and  wavering  must  be  his  mind.^  How  unfurnished  is 
he,  while  destitute  of  inward  support,  for  all  those  conflicts  with  the 
world,  and  all  those  reproaches  from  it,  with  which  he  will  be  sure  to 
meet.'*  With  what  face  can  he  reprove  others,  while  secretly  he  con- 
demns himself?  When  called  to  speak  for  God,  how  will  his  mind 
misgive  him,  and  his  face  crimson  with  blushes,  while  his  heart  in- 
forms him,  that  he  is  espousing  a  cause  in  which  his  own  sincerity  is 
doubtful?  How  will  it  often  seal  his  lips  in  silence,  when  he  ought  to 
speak?  When  censured  and  condemned  by  the  profligate,  how  will 
he  be  wounded  by  the  recollection  that  the  sentence  is  partly  merited? 
When  his  good  works,  themselves,  are  evil  spoken  of,  how  will  he  be 
dismayed  by  seeing  the  just  chastisement  of  heaven  for  the  improper 
disposition  with  which  he  performed  them?  When  charged  with  the 
black  crime  of  hypocrisy,  how  will  he  be  confounded  to  think  that,  in 
the  sight  of  God,  the  charge  is  bottomed  on  truth?  When  called  to 
suffer  for  conscience  sake,  or  to  hazard  his  life  in  the  discharge  of  duty, 
how  will  he  be  appalled  and  shrink  back  with  fear,  while  conscience 
tells  him  that  he  is  a  backslider  from  God,  if  not  a  settled  enemy  to 
him?  When  only  called  to  the  open  avowal  of  his  Christian  character, 
in  the  solemn  acts  of  religious  worship,  how  will  inward  upbraidings 
fill  him  with  trembling  and  embarrassment,  and  mar  the  performance, 
by  a  diffidence  equally  distressing  and  dishonourable.^ — ^ay,  will  not 
these  causes  drive  him  altogether  from  attempting  many  duties,  and  go 
near  to  turn  him  wholly  from  his  Christian  course?  Yes,  my  brethren, 
these  are  the  consequences  of  the  shame  of  which  I  have  spoken,  as 
they  take  place  in  the  discharge  of  religious  obligations  in  the  sight  of 
men.  The  summary  of  its  history,  therefore,  is — that  it  originates  in 
a  sense  of  guilt,  arising  from  the  consciousness  of  being  unfaithful  to 
God;  which  first  destroys  or  prevents  a  filial  intercourse  with  him,  and 
confidence  of  his  favour;  and  then,  as  a  necessary  consequence,  abashes 
and  confounds  its  subject,  when  in  the  eye  of  the  world,  he  assumes  a 
character,  or  attempts  a  practice,  which  is  contrary  to  the  feelings  of 
his  heart.  This  is  the  evil  contemplated  in  the  text — an  evil  of  un- 
speakable magnitude,  in  the  estimation  of  all  who  have  not  wholly  lost 
their  regard  both  to  their  duty  and  their  comfort,  in  the  Christian  life. 
Listen,  then,  to  the  remedy  prescribed — while   I  attempt  to  show — 


The  JVatnre  and  Remedy  of  Sinful  Shame,  83 

II.  How  a  regard  to  all  God's  commandments  will  destroy  the  exist- 
ence, or  prevent  the  embarrassments,  of  this  sinful  shame. 

In  entering  on  this   part  of  the  subject,  it  may  be   of  some  impor- 
tance to  endeavour  to  obtain  clear  and  distinct  ideas  of  what  was  in- 
tended to  be  conveyed  by  the  expression — "  having  a  respect  unto  all 
God's  commandments."     Does  it  intend  a  perfect  obedience  to  all  the 
divine  laws,  or  a  sinless  observance  of  them?     Certainly  not — For  the 
inspired  penman  evidently  fixed  his  views  on  an  attainment,  which  he 
not  only  proposed  to  labour  after,  l)ut  which  he  actually  hoped  to  make, 
in  the  present  life; — and  we  have  the  unequivocal  testimony  of  revela- 
tion "  that  there  is  not  a  just  man  on  earth,  who  doth  good  and  sinneth 
not  "  and  that  "  if  we  say  we  have  no  sin  we  deceive  ourselves  and  the 
truth  is  not  in  us."    Neither  can  it  be  intended,  that  any  man  will  ever 
yield  such  an  obedience  to  the  divine  requisitions  as  shall,  of  itself,  be 
the  just  ground  of  his  confidence  before  God;  or  so  place  him  on  the 
footing  of  merit,  as  that  he  may  claim  the  approbation  and  favour  of 
heaven,  as  a  matter  of  right.     The  impossibility  of  this  is,  indeed, 
implied  in  the  last  remark;  for  nothing  less  than  an  unsinning  respect 
to  the  commands  of  God,  through  the  whole  of  our  existence,  could 
entitle  us   to   this  claim.     The  finished  Avork  of  the  Redeemer,— his 
atoning    sacrifice,   his    complete   and   perfect  righteousness,    and    his 
prevalent  intercession,  constitute  the  only  meritorious  cause  ot   par- 
don and  acceptance  with  God,  for  any  of  the  apostate  race  ot  Adani 
—It   is  only   in   Christ   Jesus    that    God    is   "reconciling   the   world 
unto  himself,  not  imputing  their  trespasses  unto  them;"  because  "  he 
hath  made  him  to  be  sin  for  us  who  knew  no  sin,  that  we  might  be 
made  the  righteousness  of  God  in  him."   The  first  freedom,  which  any 
soul  that  has  been  suitably  convinced  of  sin  obtains,  to  look  up  to  a 
holy  God  with  a  measure  of  filial  confidence,  is  wholly  derived  from 
seeing  the  ample  provision  which  is  made  in  the  plan  of  salvation,  tor 
extending  pardon  and  eternal  life  to  the  sinner,  in  consistency  with  the 
divine  honour;  and  from  a  disposition  to  embrace  this  plan  with  thank- 
fulness, and  to  trust  it  in  faith.     It  is,  therefore,  so  far  trom  being  true 
that  the  expression  warrants   any  reliance  on  our  own  merits,  that  it 
necessarily  implies  the  opposite  doctrine:  "  As  it  is  written,  behold  I 
lav  in  Zion  a  stumbling  stone  and  rock  of  offence,  and  whosoever  be- 
lievethon  him  shall  not  be  ashamed"~-Not  to  be  ashamed,  is  here 
predicated,  and  it  is  certainly  true,  only  of  those  who  believe  in  Christ 
It  is,  moreover,  written,  "  This  is  his  commandment,  that  we  should 
believe  on  the  name  of  his  Son  Jesus  Christ,"  and  therefore  we  cannot 
have  respect  unto  all  the  commandments  of  God,  while  a  compliance 

with  this  is  wanting.  ,  •*  •     *     i 

I  detain  you  with  this  statement,  my  brethren,  oecause  it  is  to  be 
reerarded,  not  merely  in  the  light  of  a  negative,  or  as  intended  to 
iruard  against  a  misapprehension  of  the  truth,  but  because  it  con- 
tains  the  essence  of  the  truth  itself.  It  is  an  undoubted  tact,  as  I  am 
sure  every  exercised  Christian  will  testify,  that  when  he  has  wandered 
from  God,  and  is  sunk  down  into  despondence  under  a  sense  o  his 
backsliding  and  unworthiness,  the  first  and  only  relief  tnat  he  obtains 
is,  from  a  heart  melting,  and  a  heart  attracting  view  of  the  mhnite  lul- 
ness  of  his  Redeemer,  and  the  freeness  of  the  riches  of  his  grace  It 
is  this  view  that  encourages  him  to  return;  it  is  this  that  brings  lum 
back  with  true  brokenness  of  heart;  it  is  this  that  enables  him  o  che- 
rish hope  though  most  undeserving;  and  it  is  this  that  sweetly  con- 


84  The  JVature  and  Remedy  of  Sinful  Shame. 

strains  him  to  devote  himself  more  unreservedly  to  God  than  ever  he 
had  done  before,  from  a  strong  sense  of  gratitude  and  obligation.  In 
having  such  respect,  therefore,  unto  all  God's  commandments  as  will 
deliver  us  from  the  influence  of  shame,  a  lively  exercise  of  faith  in 
Christ,  lies  at  the  bottom  of  all.  It  is  also  the  constraining  influence 
of  the  love  of  Christ,  which  is  the  source  of  that  new  obedience,  which 
reaches  the  extent  of  the  requisition — It  produces  what  has  sometimes 
been  called  a  gracious  sincerity,  in  the  heart  of  the  believer.  It  awakens 
in  him  a  strong  desire  to  be  delivered  from  the  dominion  of  all  sin;  so 
that  he  will  not  knowingly  and  allowedly  indulge  in  any  transgression; 
he  will  desire  that  every  lust  and  corruption  may  be  mortified  and  sub- 
dued; and  will  pant  after  greater  conformity  to  God.  He  will  be  so  far 
from  desiring  to  rest  short  of  any  thing  which  Christ  requires  of  his 
people,  that  he  will  press  forward,  and  ardently  long  after  the  highest 
attainment,  and  lament  that  higher  attainments  are  not  made.  He 
will,  in  short,  seek  his  supreme  happiness  in  communion  with  God,  in 
the  diligent  use  of  all  the  appropriate  ineans  of  holy  intercourse  with 
him.  Thus  the  author  of  the  text,  in  the  8th  verse  of  the  psalm  where 
it  is  found,  says — "  Let  my  heart  be  sound  in  thy  statutes,  that  I  be  not 
ashamed."  It  is  this  soundness  of  heart — this  gracious  sincerity  in  the 
sight  of  God — this  impartial  regard  or  respect  to  every  command  of 
the  Most  High,  without  taking  one  and  leaving  another — this  careful 
employment  of  all  the  means  and  methods  of  avoiding  transgression — 
that  answers  completely  the  condition  of  the  assertion  on  which  I  dis- 
rourse.  And  let  us  now  see  how  strictly  the  assertion  will  be  verified, 
in  those  who  comply  with  the  condition. 

I  remark  then,  in  the  first  place,  that  a  compliance  with  this  con- 
dition removes,  naturally  and  radically,  the  cause  of  all  the  guilty 
shame,  and  embarrassment  of  which  I  have  spoken,  by  producing  a 
consistent  character.  Shame  is  the  natural  consequence  and  proper 
punishment  of  guilt.  The  only  methods  of  getting  rid  of  the  pain 
which  it  occasions  are,  to  extinguish  the  principle,  or  to  avoid  the 
causes  of  its  excitement.  The  former  of  these  methods  is  actually  and 
frequently  pursued  by  the  abandoned.  By  plunging  into  the  excesses 
of  vice,  and  familiarizing  themselves  with  all  its  pollutions,  they  extin- 
guish shame  and  conscience  together — On  the  middle  character,  con- 
templated in  the  former  part  of  this  discourse,  that  character  in  which 
there  is  still  a  sensibility  to  the  demands  of  duty,  and  where,  notwith- 
standing, those  demands  are  disregarded  or  left  unsatisfied,  it  is  here  that 
the  principle  of  shame  inflicts,  as  we  have  seen,  all  its  chastisements.  But 
where  the  demands  of  duty  are  satisfied,  there  the  cause  of  shame  itself 
is  taken  away;  and  though  the  utmost  sensibility  be  retained,  it  creates 
no  uneasiness,  because  it  meets  with  no  violation.  This  is  the  case 
of  those  who  have  that  respect  unto  all  God's  commandments,  which 
we  have  just  considered.  Through  the  peace  speaking  blood  of  Jesus, 
they  have  received  the  full  remission  of  all  their  sins.  By  maintaining 
a  close  and  humble  walk  with  God,  they  preserve  an  habitual  persua- 
sion of  this  comfortable  truth;  or  rather  they  experience  a  daily^and 
habitual  renewal  of  its  effects.  In  the  exercise  of  the  spirit  of  adop- 
tion, they  draw  near  with  a  holy  confidence,  and  cry  "  Abba,  Father" — 
They  have  a  blessed  assurance,  that  God  will  realize  to  them  all  the 
benefits  of  the  covenant  of  grace;  and  esteeming  "  his  favour  as  life, 
and  his  loving  kindness  as  better  than  life,"  they  rejoice  in  him  "  with 
a  joy  which  is  exceeding  great  and  full  of  glory.'*  In  one  word,  they 
verify  in  their  own  experience  the  declaration  of  the  Apostle,  where  he 


The  J^ature  and  Remedy  of  Sinful  Shame,  85 

says — "  Beloved,  if  our  heart  condemn  us  not,  then  have  we  confidence 
toward  God:  and  whatsoever  we  ask  we  receive  of  him,  because  we 
keep  his  commandments,  and  do  those  things  that  are  pleasing  in  his 
sight" — And  thus  when  that  which  we  have  seen  to  be  the  very  foun- 
tain of  shame,  namely,  a  want  of  confidence  in  God,  is  dried  up  in  the 
heart  of  a  Christian,  it  can  send  forth  none  of  its  bitter  streams  to  poison 
his  pleasure,  or  to  wither  his  strength,  in  the  public  discharge  of  his 
duty.  "His  heart  is  fixed,  trusting  in  God."  His  heart  is  in  all  that  he 
says,  and  in  all  that  he  does;  and  therefore  he  becomes — as  we  are  told 
the  righteous  shall  become — "bold  as  a.  lion."  Is  it  incumbent  on  him 
to  reprove  the  vicious  and  profane?  he  can  do  it  without  embarrass- 
ment, for  he  only  speaks  against  that  which  his  soul  abhors.  Is  an  oc- 
casion offered  to  speak  for  God?  his  mouth  speaketh  from  the  abun- 
dance of  his  heart,  and  therefore  he  speaks  freely,  pertinently,  and  com- 
posedly; and  he  is  ever  ready  to  speak,  when  a  fit  opportunity  occurs. 
Is  he  branded  as  a  hypocrite?  he  is  sensible  that  his  all-seeing  Judge 
knows  the  charge  to  be  groundless,  and  therefore  it  disturbs  him  not — 
he  pities  and  forgives  his  accuser.  Is  he  called  to  avow  his  Christian 
character?  he  does  it  freely  and  cheerfully,  for  it  is  the  character  in 
which  he  most  of  all  glories.  Is  he  subjected  to  reproach  for  the  cause  of 
Christ?  he  even  glories  that  "he  is  counted  worthy  to  suffer  shame  for 
his  name,"  remembering  that  "  if  any  man  suffer  as  a  Christian,  he  is 
not  to  be  ashamed,  but  to  glorify  God  in  this  behalf."  Or  if  he  is  called 
to  give  up  life  itself,  in  an  adherence  to  his  duty,  he  can  do  it  cheer- 
fully, even  though  it  were  amidst  the  scoffs  of  a  deriding  world;  for  he 
knows  that  the  honour  which  cometh  from  God,  and  of  which  he  is 
sure,  is  infinitely  greater  than  that  which  cometh  from  man  only. 

Brethren,  the  history  of  the  church  is  a  continual  confirmation  of 
these  truths.  Supported  by  the  principles  I  have  explained,  three  un- 
protected young  men  could  face  an  assembled  nation,  could  face  a 
burning  fiery  furnace,  could  face  the  mightiest  monarch  on  earth,  and 
say — "  Be  it  known  unto  thee,  O  king!  that  we  will  not  serve  thy  gods, 
nor  worship  the  golden  image  which  thou  hast  set  up."  Supported  by 
these  principles,  two  ignorant  and  unlearned  fishermen,  dragged  from 
prison,  and  from  chains  before  the  Jewish  Sanhedrim,  could  say — "  Be 
it  known  unto  you  all,  and  to  all  the  people  of  Israel,  that  by  the  name 
of  Jesus  Christ  of  Nazareth,  whom  ye  crucified,  whom  God  raised  from 
the  dead,  doth  this  man  stand  here  before  you  whole."  Supported  by 
these  principles,  a  host  of  martyrs,  in  later  ages,  have  courted  a  scaf- 
fold, or  been  consumed  at  the  stake.  And,  without  recurring  to  such 
striking  instances,  it  is  the  support  of  these  principles  which  enables 
every  Christian,  who  leads  a  life  of  real  nearness  to  God,  to  adorn  the 
doctrine  of  his  Saviour  in  all  things — The  blessed  assurance  which  he 
habitually  maintains  that  his  God  is  his  friend,  makes  him  fearless  of 
the  world — It  raises  him  far  above  its  influence,  and  puts,  without  his 
seeking  it,  a  dignity  into  his  conduct  and  his  very  presence,  which 
nothing  else  can  confer. 

2.  By  having  respect  to  all  God's  commandments,  we  acquire  the 
advantage  which  arises  from  a  decided  character^  a.nd  are  thus  delivered 
from  many  temptations  to  those  sinful  compliances  which  are  the  cause 
of  shame.  The  person  who  cherishes  the  inward  sentiments,  and 
maintains  the  outward  deportment  which  has  been  explained,  will  un- 
avoidably assume,  in  the  eye  of  the  world,  an  appearance  and  character 
which  will  distinguish  him  as  one  who  is  not  governed  by  its  maxims, 
and  who  does  not  follow  its  fashions.     It  will  no  longer  be  doubtful  to 


86  'The  J^Tatiire  and  Remedy  of  Sinful  Shame. 

whom  he  belongs- — Those  who  are  conformed  to  this  world,  will  see 
and  feel  that  he  is  g-uided  by  other  principles  than  those  which  influ- 
ence them,  and  pursues  a  totally  different  system  of  living  and  of  hap- 
piness, from  that  which  they  have  adopted.  Hence  they  will  not  so- 
licit an  intimacy  with  him;  for  intimacies  exist  only  between  parties 
of  a  similar  taste.  When  thrown  together  by  the  calls  of  business, 
or  in  the  intercourse  of  life,  (for  this  character  by  no  means  requires 
austerity  or  abstractedness,)  it  will  not  be  expected  that  the  decided 
friend  of  piety  will  relish  or  take  part  in  questionable  liberties.  His 
presence  will  even  prove  a  restraint  on  others;  or  to  say  the  least,  his 
character  will  be  a  protection  to  himself,  from  solicitations  to  unlawful 
practices.  That  character  will  also  be  both  a  guard  on  himself 
against  doing  or  saying  any  thing  that  might  wound  his  conscience, 
and  will  afford  him  an  advantage  in  speaking  or  acting  against  every 
thing  improper.  The  desire  of  appearing  consistent,  will  be  a  natural 
call  on  him  to  defend  what  he  professes  to  esteem,  and  the  expectation 
that  he  will  act  this  part,  will  enable  him  to  do  it  with  freedom  and 
with  advantage.  And  thus  Avill  temptations  to  those  sinful  compli- 
ances which  are  the  cause  of  shame,  be  greatly  diminished,  and  the 
principles  of  religion  be  guarded,  even  by  the  care  of  reputation. 

This  decided  character  for  piety,  will  moreover,  render  its  possessor 
extremely  dear  to  all  who  are  Christians  indeed;  and  from  this  cause 
he  will  gain  an  immense  advantage.  The  influence  of  social  inter- 
course, on  all  our  opinions  and  practice,  is  ever  great;  and  it  is  not  less 
in  regard  to  religion,  than  in  reference  to  any  other  subject.  Chris- 
tians inform  each  other  by  their  conversation,  encourage  and  animate 
each  other  by  their  exhortations,  assist  each  other  by  a  comparison  of 
their  exercises,  embolden  each  other  by  a  recital  of  their  hopes,  and  help 
and  strengthen  each  other  by  their  prayers.  He  who  is  joined  to  this 
happy  society,  is  continually  imbibing  more  of  the  spirit  which  distin- 
guishes and  animates  it,  and  is  therefore  less  in  danger  of  acting  un- 
worthily of  his  Christian  character,  and  of  wounding  his  own  peace. 

3.  A  respect  unto  all  God's  commandments,  will  deliver  us  from  the 
influence  of  sinful  shame,  inasmuch  as  it  will  exceedingly  lower  the 
world^  and  every  created  object^  in  our  estimation  and  regard.  This  idea 
has  been  a  little  anticipated,  but  it  is  of  so  much  importance,  that  it 
deserves  to  be  brought  distinctly  into  view.  When  men  are  conscious 
of  guilt,  it  has  been  admitted  that  they  ought  to  blush  and  be  con- 
founded— But  whence  proceeds  that  fear  of  man  which  bringeth  a 
snare?  why  are  men  timid  and  abashed  in  the  discharge  of  duty.^  in 
doing  that  which  their  consciences  dictate  and  approve.^  In  some  in- 
dividuals, this,  no  doubt,  must  be  in  part  resolved  into  constitutional 
make,  or  natural  infirmity.  But  after  every  just  allowance,  much  will 
still  remain  to  be  attributed  to  the  high  estimation  in  which  we  hold 
the  opinions  of  our  fellow  men,  even  when  they  come  in  competition 
with  duty  and  conscience.  If  it  were  with  us,  as  it  was  with  the  apos- 
tle, "  a  small  thing  to  be  judged  of  man's  judgment,"  we  should  be 
wholly  delivered  from  this  inconvenience,  as  far  as  it  arises  from  prin- 
ciple; and  should  go  far  to  get  the  victory  over  it,  even  as  a  natural 
infirmity.  Now,  a  life  of  nearness  to  God,  will  assuredly  give  us  this 
estimation  of  all  human  opinions,  so  far  as  they  militate  with  our 
Christian  obligations.  The  fear  of  man  whose  breath  is  in  his  nostrils, 
will  be  absorbed  in  the  fear  of  him  "  who  is  able  to  destroy  both  body 
and  soul  in  hell."  The  mind  which  takes  clear  and  frequent  views  of 
an  infinite  God,  and  a  boundless  eternity;  which  places  them  often  be- 


The  JVatiire  and  Remedy  of  Sinful  Shame,  ST 

fore  it,  brings  them  into  ideal  presence,  and  dwells  as  it  were  sur- 
rounded by  themj  such  a  mind  will  look  down  on  the  world  with  a 
holy  indifference.  Its  censure  or  its  applause,  its  smiles  or  its  frowns, 
will  be  regarded  as  matters  of  small  estimation: 

"  His  hand  the  good  man  fastens  on  the  skies, 
Then  bids  earth  turn,  nor  feels  the  idle  whirl." 

He  feels  that  his  heart  and  his  treasure  are  in  heaven;  his  thoughts, 
his  hopes,  his  desires,  are  principally  there.  Not  setting  a  high  es- 
timation on  earthly  possessions  or  human  applause,  he  is  not  much 
agitated  with  anxiety  when  he  contemplates  them,  nor  when  they 
are  denied  him.  This  appears  to  have  been  eminently  the  temper  of 
the  Psalmist,  when  he  said — "  Whom  have  I  in  heaven  but  thee,  and 
there  is  none  on  earth  that  I  desire  beside  thee."  This  was  the  tem- 
per of  the  great  apostle  of  the  Gentiles,  when  he  said — "  I  am  crucified 
to  the  world  and  the  world  to  me — Yea  doubtless,  and  I  count  all 
things  but  loss  for  the  excellency  of  the  knowledge  of  Christ  Jesus  my 
Lord,  for  whom  I  have  suffered  the  loss  of  all  things,  and  do  count 
them  but  dung  that  I  may  win  Christ."  This,  in  fine,  is  the  temper 
which  every  one  will,  in  a  good  degree,  possess,  whose  conversation  is 
in  heaven;  and  possessing  this,  he  will,  as  a  natural  consequence,  rise 
above  a  sinful  and  ensnaring  fear  of  man,  and  be  able,  with  comfort  and 
composure,  to  support  and  adorn  his  Christian  profession. 

Thus,  it  appears  that  a  respect  to  all  God's  commandments,  by  giv- 
ing us  a  consisteyit  character — producing  confidence  in  God;  by  render- 
ing that  character  decided,  in  the  view  of  the  world;  and  by  lessening 
our  estimation  for  the  things  of  time  and  the  opinions  of  men;  will  deliver 
us  from  shame  and  embarrassment  in  the  discharge  of  every  duty. 

In  how  strong  a  light,  my  brethren,  does  this  subject  place  the  folly 
of  those,  who  are  balancing  in  their  minds  between  the  demands  of  re- 
ligion and  the  allurements  of  the  world;  and  endeavouring  to  reconcile 
a  regard  to  both?  We  see  that,  in  fact,  they  obtain  satisfaction  from 
neither — they  are  the  most  unhappy  persons  upon  earth.  If  1  speak 
to  any  of  this  description;  to  any  who  are  doubting  and  hesitating 
about  coming  forward  to  an  open  avowal  of  a  Christian  character;  to 
any  who  are  half  inclined  to  this,  but  are  held  back  by  a  fear  of  the 
world;  I  would  entreat  them  to  lay  aside  their  hostility  to  their  own 
happiness,  by  a  resolute  discharge  of  duty.  Believe  it,  your  efforts  to 
reconcile  the  service  of  God  and  the  friendship  of  the  world,  will  be 
forever  vain,  and  you  will  be  forever  tormented  while  you  attempt  it. 
If  you  will  be  for  God,  you  must  be  for  him  wholly  and  unreservedly; 
without  seeking  to  accommodate  his  service  to  the  opinions  and  feel- 
ings of  unsanctified  men.  Your  interest,  no  less  than  your  duty,  en- 
joins this — "  Wherefore  come  out  from  among  them,  and  be  ye  sepa- 
rate saith  the  Lord,  and  touch  not  the  unclean  thing,  and  I  will  receive 
you,  and  will  be  a  father  unto  you,  and  ye  shall  be  ray  sons  and  daugh- 
ters, saith  the  Lord  Almighty." 

In  a  still  stronger  light  does  this  subject  place  both  the  folly  and  im- 
piety of  professing  Christians,  who  are  stealing  away  to  the  forbidden 
pleasures  of  sin;  as  if  religion  were  not  able  to  afford  them  happiness. 
Be  it  known  that  the  very  reason  w  hy  it  does  not  afford  you  happiness,  if  I 
speak  to  such,  is  because  you  are  not  devoted  to  it;  because  you  mingle 
it  so  much  with  the  world,  that  you  debase  its  nature;  because  you 
only  retain  enough  of  it  to  wound  your  consciences,  and  to  cover  you 
with  shame  and  confusion,  but  have  not  enough  to  enable  you  to  take 


88  Christ  the  Desire  of  all  JSTations. 

hold  of  its  divine  supports,  and  to  taste  its  heavenly  consolations. 
Cease  then  to  pierce  yourselves  through  with  many  sorrows — Return 
unto  the  Lord,  and  cleave  unto  him  with  all  your  heart,  and  with  all 
your  soul,  and  you  shall  find  that  it  is  not  a  vain  thing  to  serve  him. 

On  the  whole,  let  us  all  be  exhorted  to  endeavour  to  walk  more  with 
God — We  cannot  wander  from  his  presence,  without  unspeakable  in- 
jury to  ourselves.  In  his  presence  only  is  the  light  of  life — While  we 
remain  here,  we  bring  down  a  portion  of  heaven  to  earth.  Let  us, 
therefore,  set  it  as  our  mark  to  obey  all  God's  commandments,  without 
choice  or  exception.  Let  us  pray  unceasingly  for  the  aids  of  his  Holy 
Spirit,  that  we  may  be  enabled  to  do  so;  and  let  us  guard  agahist  every 
thing  that  might  have  a  tendency  to  interrupt  our  intercourse  with  our 
Father  in  heaven.    Amen. 


A  CHRISTlXCiLS  SBRHHOXT. 

Christ  the  Desire  of  all  Nations. 
Haggai,  ii.  7j  middle  clause.—"  The  Desire  of  all  nations  shall  come." 

The  occasion  on  which  these  words  were  uttered  by  the  Prophet  was 
as  follows: — After  the  return  of  the  Jews  from  their  captivity  in  Baby- 
lon, they  began  to  rebuild  the  house,  or  temple,  of  Jehovah,  the  God  of 
Israel.  Before  they  had  proceeded  far,  their  undertaking  was  inter- 
rupted by  a  prohibition  from  the  Persian  monarch,  to  whose  authority 
they  were  still  subject.  It  was  not  long,  however,  that  this  obstacle 
needed  to  have  hindered  their  proceeding  in  their  design.  But  in  the 
mean  time  their  inclination  to  proceed  had  subsided ;  and  it  was  not 
till  several  severe  judgments  had  been  inflicted  on  them  for  their  ne- 
gligence, and  the  prophet  on  whose  words  I  discourse  had  been  sent  to 
awaken  them  to  a  sense  of  their  duty,  that  they  could  be  induced  again 
to  engage  in  the  work  which  they  had  relinquished.  At  length,  how- 
ever, it  was  resumed  with  spirit;  and  yet  it  was  soon  after  retarded,  anew, 
by  another  discouraging  circumstance.  Some  of  the  persons  concerned 
in  rebuilding  the  temple  were  old  enough  to  recollect  that  which  had 
been  destroyed;  and  all  of  them,  no  doubt,  had  been  informed  of  its  mag- 
nificent appearance  and  costly  furniture;  and  it  was  obvious,  at  once, 
that  the  edifice  they  were  engaged  in  erecting  would  be  far  inferior,  in 
point  of  splendour,  to  the  one  in  place  of  which  it  was  to  stand.  This 
thought  damped  the  ardour  of  all  those  who  were  concerned  in  building 
it;  for  nothing  is  more  discouraging  than  to  know  that  after  every  effort, 
we  must  rest  far  short  of  what  others  have  performed,  and  of  what  we 
ourselves  are  desirous  to  achieve.  To  remove  this  new  difficulty,  the 
same  prophet  who  had  been  employed  to  stir  them  up  to  the  enterprise, 
was  sent  with  a  new  message  to  encourage  them  in  its  prosecution.  He, 
accordingly,  informed  them,  by  the  command  of  Jehovah,  that  although 
the  temple  they  were  erecting  would,  in  external  grandeur,  be  inferior  to 
that  which  had  been  built  by  Solomon,  yet,  in  another,  and  far  more  im- 
portant particular,  it  should  be  superior — That  a  great  and  glorious  per- 
sonage, who  should  be  emphatically  "the  Desire  of  all  nations,"  should 
enter  and  make  his  appearance  in  it;  and  by  his  presence  there,  put  an  ho- 
nour upon  it,  unspeakably  greater  than  any  which  had  been  conferred  on 
Solomon's — "I  will  fill  this  house  with  glory,  saith  the  Lord  of  hosts — 
The  glory  of  this  latter  house  shall  be  greater  than  of  the  former,  saith 


Christ  the  Desire  of  all  JVations.  89 

the  Lord  of  hosts;  and  in  this  place  will  I  give  peace,  saith  the  Lord 
of  hosts." 

In  discoursing  farther  on  the  passage,  thus  illustrated,  I  will  endea- 
vour to  show, 

L  That  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ  is  the  personage  here  spoken  of,  as 
the  Desire  of  all  nations. 

IL  In  what  respects  he  might  with  propriety  be  thus  denominated, 
or  described. 

III.  Improve  the  subject. 

In  showing  that  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ  is  the  personage  intended 
or  described  in  the  text  as  the  Desire  of  all  nations,  the  chief  con- 
sideration is — that  the  truth  of  the  whole  passage  with  which  these 
words  are  connected,  is  incapable  of  vindication,  unless  we  admit  that 
the  Messiah  was  the  subject  of  the  prediction;  and  this  being  admit- 
ted, it  must  appear  incontrovertible  that  our  Lord  was  the  only  person, 
during  the  period  to  which  the  prophecy  refers,  who  can  be  imagined 
to  have  possessed  that  character.  If  the  advent  of  the  Messiah,  so  long 
expected  by  the  Jews  and  foretold  by  their  prophets,  was  not  contem- 
plated in  the  text,  as  the  circumstance  or  event  which  was  to  render 
the  second  temple  more  glorious  than  the  first,  it  is  impossible  to  say 
what  was  intended,  or  to  clear  the  prediction  from  the  charge  of  false- 
hood. For  in  every  respect,  except  the  presence  of  the  Messiah,  the 
glory  of  the  latter  house  was  not  greater,  but  incomparably  less,  than 
that  of  the  former.  The  nation  and  the  individuals  who  respected 
and  offered  their  devotions  in  it,  were  less  important  in  the  eyes  of  the 
world,  and  much  more  inconsiderable  in  number,  than  in  the  days  of 
Solomon.  The  temple  itself,  although  very  much  enriched  and  adorn- 
ed in  the  time  of  Herod,  yet  never  was,  at  any  period,  either  as  large 
or  as  magnificent,  as  that  which  preceded  it:  And  as  to  that  which 
might  be  called  the  spiritual  furniture,  the  first  temple  possessed  the  ho- 
nour and  advantage,  probably  of  the  Urim  and  Thurnmim,  certainly  of 
the  ark  of  the  covenant,  the  fire  from  heaven,  and  the  glorious  Shechi- 
nah,  or  visible  manifestation  of  the  presence  of  Jehovah;  all  of  which 
were  wanting  in  the  second. 

The  prophecy,  therefore,  that  this  house  should  be  more  glorious 
than  the  former,  has  not  been  and  never  can  be  verified,  unless  the  pre- 
sence of  the  Messiah,  was  the  circumstance  to  which  it  referred  as  that 
which  should  give  truth  to  the  declaration.  The  presence  in  the  second 
house  of  the  incarnate  Son  of  God,  would  completely  and  most  signally 
verify  the  prediction;  because,  as  he  was  the  great  object  to  which  every 
symbol,  and  indeed  the  whole  Jewish  dispensation  pointed,  his  coming 
into  this  temple  would  make  it  as  much  superior  to  the  former,  as  the 
substance  is  superior  to  the  shadow — the  thing  which  is  signified  to  that 
wliich  is  only  a  faint  emblem  of  it.  There  was  moreover,  no  other  person 
or  thing  so  far  as  we  know,  that  could  with  any  show  of  propriety  be 
denominated  the  Desire  of  all  nations;  so  that  it  seems  impossible  not  to 
believe  that  it  was  the  Messiah,  to  whom  the  prophet  here  referred : 
And  if  the  Messiah  was  really  the  object  pointed  at,  our  Lord  Jesus 
Christ  must  unquestionably  be  he.  For  although  there  were  others  who 
laid  claim  to  this  character  during  the  existence  of  the  second  temple, 
yet  they  have  long  since  been  considered  as  impostors,  both  by  Jews 
and  Gentiles;  and  from  the  nature  of  the  case  can  never  hereafter  be 
considered  in  any  other  light.  Christ  Jesus,  therefore,  is  the  only  indi- 
vidual who  can  ever  be  supjiosed,  with  any  degree  of  probability,  to  have 
possessed  tlic  character  of  the  Messiah,  the  anointed  of  the  eternal 
INI 


90  Christ  the  Desire  of  all  JSTations, 

Father,  and  Immaimel,  God  with  us,  during  the  period  of  which  I  speak; 
and  he,  consequently,  must  be  the  illustrious  personage  whose  presence 
in  this  temple  was  to  do  it  an  honour,  with  which  nothing  that  belonged 
to  Solomon's  could  pretend  to  vie.     In  this  temple  he,  accordingly,  did 
make  his  appearance — In  this  temple  he  was  presented  to  the  Lord, 
while  an  infant,  according  to  an  established  ordinance;  and  was,  on 
that  occasion,  solemnly  recognised  as  the  Messiah,  by  holy  Simeon  and 
Anna,  acting  under  the  influence  of  divine  inspiration.     He  honoured 
the  temple  by  his  presence  again,  when  he  visited  it  with  his  parents, 
at  the  age  of  twelve  years:     And  he  purified  it  from  the  abuses  that 
were  practised  in  it,  when,  after  his  triumphal  entry  into  Jerusalem,  he 
scourged  from  it  those  who  pursued  an  unlawful  merchandise  there. 
Nay,  we  are  told  that  he  daily  preached  in   the  temple;   and  that  after 
his  crucifixion  and  resurrection,  the  apostles  began  to  publish  the  gos- 
pel here.  This  it  was  that  eminently  constituted  the  glory  of  the  second 
temple.     It  was  from  this,  as  from  its  central  point,  that  the  rays  of 
the  glorious  gospel  began  to  dawn  on  the  benighted  world.     Here  first 
broke  forth  that  fountain  of  living  water,  whose  salutary  streams  shall 
never  cease  to  flow,  of  which  whosoever  drinketh  shall  never  thirst,  in 
which  whosoever  washeth   shall   be  cleansed  and  healed  from   every 
spiritual  pollution  and  malady,  and  from  the  efficacy  of  which  all  who 
drink  of  it  imbibe  the  principles  of  eternal  life.     This  was  an  honour 
infinitely  transcending  all  the  pomp  and  splendour  of  the  world — And 
thus  was  the  prophecy  most  illustriously  and  strikingly  fulfilled  in  Jesus 
our  Saviour;  and  thus  evident  is  it  that  he  is  the  glorious  person  spoken 
of,  as  "the  Desire  of  all  nations."  Let  us  nov/  consider,  more  particularly, 

II.  In  what  respect  he  might,  with  propriety,  be  thus  denominated  or 
described.  Here  I  begin  with  remarking,  that  if  we  take  the  word 
all,  as  we  often  must,  in  a  qualified  rather  than  an  absolute  sense; — as 
implying  tnany  nations,  and  these  contiguous  or  known  to  the  Jews, 
rather  than  every  tribe,  or  community  of  men  who  inhabit  the  earth, 
Christ  might  with  literal  propriety  be  called  "the  Desire  of  all  nations." 

From  the  fall  of  man  to  the  time  of  his  appearance  in  the  world,  he 
had  been  the  object  of  esteem  and  love,  of  hope  and  trust,  to  all  the 
faithful,  not  only  among  the  Jews,  but  among  other  nations  who  had 
heard  of  his  name;  and  they  looked  forward  to  his  advent  with  great 
desire  and  expectation,  as  a  period  at  which  much  light  and  spiritual 
advantage  and  consolation  should  be  conferred  on  the  world.  Some 
knowledge  of  his  name  and  character  was,  no  doubt,  handed  down  by 
tradition  from  Adam  to  Noah.  They  had  at  least  heard  of  the  promise, 
that  the  seed  of  the  woman  should  bruise  the  serpent's  head.  Of  this 
knowledge  the  descendants  of  Noah  would,  we  may  be  sure,  scatter 
some  remnants  in  the  various  parts  of  the  earth  which  were  populated 
by  them.  The  more  distinct  predictions  of  the  Messiah  which  were 
given  to  Abraham,  would  be  made  known  by  him  among  the  nations  of 
the  East  where  he  dwelt;  would  be  carried  by  his  posterity  into  Egypt, 
which  was  then  the  school  of  science  to  the  world,  and  augmented  by 
the  memorable  prophecy  of  dying  Jacob,  in  regard  to  the  posterity  of 
Judah,  would  be  widely  diffused.  The  nations  bordering  on  the  land  of 
Canaan,  after  it  was  possessed  by  the  Israelites,  and  many  of  whom  be- 
came proselytes  to  the  Jewish  religion,  would  acquire  and  disseminate 
the  information  on  this  subject  which  the  Hebrews  possessed  during  the 
whole  period  of  their  judges  and  their  kings.  The  same  information 
would  be  carried  by  the  Jews  to  Babylon,  when  they  were  led  captive 
there,  and  be  communicated  freely  in  the  capital,  and  throughout  a  con- 


Christ  the  Desire  of  all  JS^'ations.  91 

siderable  part  of  the  Assyrian  empire.  In  particular,  the  clear  revela- 
tions of  the  Messiah  which  were  made  to  the  prophet  Daniel,  would  be 
likely,  from  the  iniluence  and  high  station  which  he  possessed,  to  be 
heard  with  reverence  and  ree^ard,  and  to  be  extensively  circulated — In 
addition  to  all,  there  seems  to  be  some  reason  to  believe  that  the  heathen 
oracles  themselves,  were  made  instrumental  in  publishing  that  a  Sa- 
viour should  one  day  come  into  the  world.  We,  at  least,  know,  that 
the  soothsayer  Balaam,  was  made  to  utter  an  unwilling  but  very  re- 
markable prophecy,  of  the  coming  and  character  of  Christ.  From  the 
causes  now  cursorily  noticed,  it  is  certain  that  there  was  some  knowledge 
of  the  Messiah  among  almost  all  the  Eastern  nations,  even  from  the  re- 
motest periods  of  time,  and  that  this  knowledge  gradually  increased  and 
became  more  precise,  till  at  length  the  very  time  of  his  appearance 
was  generally  understood,  and  as  it  approached,  excited  much  atten- 
tion and  expectation. 

The  sacred  records  give  us,  at  a  very  early  period,  a  short  but  very  in- 
teresting account  of  Melchisedcck,  who,  as  he  was  an  eminent  type  of 
our  Redeemer,  we  may  reasonably  conclude  possessed  some  informa- 
tion of  his  character.  Abimelech,  the  king  of  Gerar,  flourished  nearly 
at  the  same  time,  and  as  he  appears  to  have  been  truly  pious,  was  cer- 
tainly not  altogether  ignorant  of  the  Messiah.  Job,  who  probably  lived 
not  long  after  this,  and  who  appears  to  have  been  an  Eastern  prince, 
had  such  clear  views  of  Christ,  and  such  a  lively  faith  in  him,  that  he 
could  say,  "  I  know  that  my  Redeemer  liveth,  and  that  he  shall  stand 
at  the  latter  day  upon  the  earth."  The  case  of  impious  Balaam  has 
already  been  stated:  And  we  know  from  the  records  of  the  evangelists, 
that  when  our  Lord  actually  assumed  our  nature,  and  was  born  in  the 
land  of  Judea,  such  was  the  expectation  and  desire  of  his  appearance, 
not  only  there,  but  among  the  surrounding  nations  also,  that  wise  men 
from  the  East  were  deputed,  and  actually  came,  guided  miraculously 
by  a  singular  star  or  meteor,  and  paid  their  homage  and  made  their  of- 
ferings to  the  infant  Saviour.  With  strict  propriety,  then,  might  he  be 
called  the  Desire  of  all  nations,  when  his  advent  was  so  long  and  so 
anxiously  desired,  contemplated  and  looked  for,  by  them. 

2.  Christ  might  with  propriety,  be  called  the  Desire  of  all  nations,  by 
a  very  common  figure  in  which  the  abstract  is  put  for  the  concrete — 
that  is,  the  circumstances  and  necessities  of  those  nations  were  such, 
that  his  coming  and  the  consequences  of  it  were  very  desirable,  a  thing 
which  might  well  be  earnestly  wished  for  by  them. 

Although  there  was,  as  you  have  heard,  some  general  knowledge, 
among  the  nations  contiguous  to  the  holy  land,  that  a  Saviour  should 
arise,  yet  this  knowledge  was  imperfect  in  itself,  it  was  not  possessed 
by  the  great  mass  of  t"he  people,  and  it  had  little  or  no  practical  in- 
fluence on  their  moral  and  religious  character.  This  character,  indeed, 
was  truly  melancholy  and  shocking.  "Darkness  covered  the  earth,  and 
gross  darkness  the 'people."  The  multitude,  at  least,  possessed  no 
knowledge  of  the  true  God.  Their  worship  was  in  exact  opposition  to 
the  command  of  Jehovah  to  his  chosen  nation,  relative  to  idolatry,  and 
no  doubt  was  the  ground  of  the  prohibitory  precept— The  likeness  of  eve- 
ry thing  in  heaven  above,  and  in  the  earth  beneath,  and  in  the  waters 
under  the  earth,  was  the  object  of  their  adoration.  Nay,  vices  and  pas- 
sions of  the  most  abominable  nature,  were  treated  by  them  with  reli- 
gious reverence,  and  imputed  to  their  imaginary  deities— In  a  word, 
their  whole  religion  was  a  degrading  compound  of  ignorance,  error, 
impurity,  cruelty,  and  impiety. 


92  Christ  the  Desire  of  all  J\^ations. 

Even  among  their  philosophers,  where  notions  of  the  great  First 
Cause  of  all  things,  in  some  measure  just,  were  possessed,  at  least  by  a 
few,  difficulties  of  an  insurmountable  kind  still  existed.  Although  some 
of  them  hoped  for  a  future  state,  none  of  them  w^ere  sure  or  satisfied 
about  it;  for  after  all  the  reasonings  on  this  subject,  certainty  can  only 
be  obtained  by  an  express  revelation  from  God.  They  were,  moreover, 
in  much  doubt  and  uncertainty  whether  the  Deity  could  consistently, 
or  would  in  reality,  forgive  the  sins  of  men. — The  circumstances  which 
excited  their  hopes  and  their  fears  on  this  topic,  seemed  to  be  equally 
balanced;  and  one  of  the  wisest  and  best  of  them  declared,  that  no  one 
could  decide  with  certainty,  unless  God  should  please  to  reveal  it. 
Among  the  Jev/s  themselves,  although  a  much  better  state  of  things 
existed,  yet  their  knowledge  of  a  future  state,  and  of  the  way  of  pardon, 
was  imperfect  and  obscure;  and  the  ceremonial  part  of  their  religion 
had,  in  practice,  almost  absorbed  its  spiritual  and  moral  design.  The 
church  of  God,  moreover,  was,  at  this  time,  confined  to  the  Jewish 
nation.  The  whole  Gentile  world,  with  the  exception  of  a  few  proselytes, 
was  excluded.  The  breaking  down  of  the  middle  wall  of  partition  be- 
tween the  Gentile  and  the  Jew,  was  not  to  take  place  till  the  advent  of  the 
Messiah.  How  inexpressibly  desirable,  in  this  state  of  things,  was  the 
coming  of  Christ?  How  desirable  that  the  church  of  God  should  be 
opened  for  the  entrance  of  the  whole  world?  How  desirable  was  it  that 
the  clear  knowledge  of  the  unity,  spirituality,  and  holiness  of  his  nature, 
and  of  his  other  glorious  attributes,  should  chase  away  that  awful  igno- 
rance, which  had  debased  and  sunk  the  greater  part  of  mankind,  in  point 
of  knowledge,  almost  to  a  level  with  the  beasts  that  perish.  How  desi- 
rable that  a  just  system  of  instruction,  in  regard  to  the  divine  character, 
should  raise  the  human  mind  from  its  prostrate  subjection  to  supersti- 
tion, immorality  and  vice,  and  teach  it  wherein  true  piety  consists.^  How 
desirable  that  life  and  immortality  should  be  brought  to  light  by  the 
gospel,  and  mankind  be  assured,  by  their  Creator  himself,  that  he  had 
formed  them  for  an  endless  existence,  and  that  they  should  live  eternal- 
ly beyond  the  grave?  How  desirable  that  he  should  inform  them  that 
he  had  provided  a  way  in  which  he  could  consistently,  and  in  which  he 
was  ready  actually,  to  forgive  the  sins  of  every  penitent  offender?  How 
desirable  that  this  way  should  be  explained,  both  to  Jews  and  Gentiles, 
— that  the  great  atonement  and  finished  righteousness  of  the  Redeemer 
should  be  presented  to  their  view,  as  the  urifailing  foundation  of  their 
hopes; — that  thus  they  might  see  hoiu  it  is  that  God  is  just,  while  he 
justifieth  the  believing  sinner.^  How  desirable  to  know  that  the  Holy 
Spirit  should  also  be  given,  to  renew  and  sanctify  the  human  mind,  to 
quicken  and  comfort  it,  and  to  prepare  it  for  glory?  A  general  diffu- 
sion of  the  knowledge  of  these  things  depended  on  the  coming  of  Christ. 
By  his  coming  these  truths  were  actually  published,  first  in  Judea,  and 
then,  in  a  very  short  space,  to  all  the  neighbouring  nations;  and  finally 
they  will  be  published  to  all  the  nations  of  the  world.  In  this  view  of 
the  subject,  where  shall  we  find  language  that  shall  express,  with  suffi- 
cient energy  that  Christ  was,  at  the  time  the  prophecy  was  uttered,  the 
Desire  of  all  nations. 

3.  Christ  Jesus  may  be  called  the  Desire  of  all  nations,  as  he  hath 
been,  in  all  ages,  the  object  of  the  highest  esteem  and  affection  to  the 
people  of  God,  and  will  eventually  be  so  to  all  the  kindred  of  the  earth. 

That  our  Redeemer  is  "  all  the  salvation  and  all  the  desire"  of  those 
who  are  saved  by  him,  is  a  truth  to  which  each  of  his  sincere  disciples 
will  most  cheerfully  subscribe.     It  is  the  language  of  his  church,  as 


Christ  the  Desire  of  all  JVations.  93 

dictated  by  the  spirit  of  inspiration  in  an  early  age,  that  he  is  the  chief 
among  ten  thousand — yea  he  his  altogether  lovely.  From  the  first  pro- 
mise that  was  made  of  his  coming  after  the  fall,  till  his  Archangel 
shall  call  the  whole  human  family  to  judgment,  he  was,  and  is,  and 
shall  be,  the  "  coiner  stone"  on  which  the  hopes  of  his  people  rest, — 
the  source  of  their  purest  and  sublimest  joy.  They  look  to  him  as  the 
great  Captain  of  their  salvation:  They  view  him  as  their  Almighty 
friend:  They  see  that  if  it  had  not  been  for  his  work  ihcy  had  been 
undone  forever:  They  see  in  his  obedience  and  death,  the  only  ground 
of  their  pardon  and  justification:  They  see  in  his  infiniie  fulness,  the 
fountain  from  which  all  their  spiritual  wants  are  supplied:  They  see, 
in  his  faithful  promises,  the  food,  and  support,  and  consolation  of  their 
souls:  They  perceive,  in  his  intercession,  the  only  medium  of  an  ac- 
ceptable approach  to  God:  And  from  the  infinite  efficacy  of  all,  they  ex- 
pect the  heavenly  inheritance  to  be  conferred  upon  them.  He  is  there- 
fore dearer  to  them  than  all  earthly  friends  and  possessions.  Rather 
than  renounce  his  friendship,  they  are  ready  to  forsake  father  and  mo- 
ther, wife  and  children,  yea  and  life  itself.  "His  favour  is  life,  and  his 
loving  kindness  is,  in  their  esteem,  belter  than  life."  In  one  word,  he 
is  their  "  all  in  all."  As  soon  as  they  begin  to  see  their  need  of  him, 
they  desire,  and  seek,  and  esteem  his  favour  beyond  all  that  the  world 
calls  good  and  great — Thrones  and  empires,  if  they  possessed  them, 
they  would  cheerfully  give  for  a  saving  interest  in  Christ;  and  when 
they  obtain  it,  the  dominion  of  the  universe  would  not  tempt  them  to 
give  it  up.  In  this  high  and  emphatic  sense  is  Christ  the  desire  of  all 
his  real  disciples,  among  all  the  nations  that  ever  did,  or  that  ever  shall, 
people  the  earth. 

And  swiftly  is  the  period  advancing,  when  all  the  nations  of  the  world 
shall,  in  this  manner,  be  his  people, — be  "  the  nations  of  our  Lord  and 
of  his  Christ."  He  shall  reign  on  earth  a  thousand  years,  and  during  this 
period,  he  shall  be  the  Desire  of  all  nations,  in  all  the  extent  and  strict- 
ness of  the  statement  you  have  just  heard;  for  he  shall  be  '•  king  of 
nations  as  he  is  king  of  saints."  To  him  "  every  knee  shall  bow  and 
every  tongue  confess;"  and  this  guilty  world,  so  long  the  theatre  of 
crime  and  carnage,  and  of  aversion  to  the  Saviour,  shall  lay  its  homage 
at  his  feet;  and  its  inhabitants  shall  turn  their  eyes  on  him  as  the  high- 
est desire  and  delight  of  their  souls,  become  the  subjects  of  his  peace- 
ful kingdom,  and  most  cheerfully  consecrate  themselves  to  his  glory 
and  praise. 

Thus,  then,  it  appears  that  Christ  may,  with  propriety,  be  denomina- 
ted "  the  Desire  of  all  nations" — I.  Because,  in  a  qualified  sense,  all 
nations  desired  his  coming:  2.  Because  the  spiritual  necessities  of  all 
nations  rendered  his  coming,  in  the  highest  degree,  an  object  of  de- 
sire: 3.  Because  he  hath  ever  been  the  desire  and  delight  of  his  faith- 
ful people,  in  every  nation  and  age,  and  will  eventually  be  so,  in  the 
strictest  sense,  to  all  the  nations  of  the  earth.     It  remains, 

III.  Briefly  to  improve  the  subject. 

First,  then,  from  what  has  been  said  we  see  in  a  striking  light,  the 
blindness  and  obstinacy  of  the  Jewish  nation,  in  rejecting  the  Saviour; 
and  we  should  be  led  to  pity  their  unbelief,  and  to  pray  and  labour  for 
their  conversion  to  the  faith  of  the  gospel.  In  the  preceding  discus- 
sion it  has  been  shown,  that  a  plain  and  express  prediction  of  one  of 
their  acknowledged  prophets,  and  of  one  who  lived  nearest  to  the  time 
of  the  Messiah,  is  incapable  of  explanation,  and  must  absolutely  be 
given  up  as  false,  unless  it  be  confessed  that  Jesus  was  the  Christ.   For 


94  Christ  the  Desire  nf  all  JVations. 

the  temple  of  which  the  prophet  spake,  and  in  which  he  declared  the 
Messiah  should  make  his  appearance,  has  long  since  been  destroyed; 
and  consequently,  if  he  hath  not  actually  appeared — if  he  did  not  ap- 
pear in  that  temple — this  prediction  never  can  be  fufilled.  The  same 
thing,  indeed,  is  true  of  several  other  prophecies.  Yet  such  is  the  effect 
of  obstinate  prejudice — or  such,  rather,  is  the  consequence  of  that  awful 
imprecation  "  his  blood  be  on  us  and  on  our  children,"  that  no  argu- 
ments or  circumstances  have  hitherto  prevailed  to  convince  them  as  a 
people,  that  Christ  Jesus  was  the  Messiah  promised  to  their  fathers. 
They  look,  and  wait,  and  wish,  and  pray,  for  a  Messiah  yet  to  come. 
Unhappy  people! — he  will  never  come,  till  he  come  the  second  time,  to 
judgment.  Blessed  be  God!  he  has  come  already.  On  this  morning — 
if  this  be  his  natal  day — On  this  morning,  near  eighteen  hundred  years 
ago,*  Messiah  became  incarnate.  The  angelic  host,  in  "  choral  sym- 
phonies," filled  earth  and  heaven  with  hallelujahs  at  his  l>irth.  This 
Saviour — seed  of  Abraham — is  your  only  hope;  for  it  was  inspired  and 
eternal  truth  which  his  dauntless  apostle  proclaimed  to  your  perse- 
cuting priests  and  rulers — "  This  is  the  stone  which  was  set  at  nought 
of  your  builders,  which  is  become  the  head  of  the  corner.  Neither 
is  their  salvation  in  any  other;  for  there  is  none  other  name  under 
heaven  given  among  men  whereby  we  must  be  saved."  Brethren,  let 
us  pity  and  pray  for  the  descendants  of  the  ancient  Israel  of  God,  and 
use  every  means  in  our  power  to  bring  them  to  the  knowledge  of  the 
truth  that  they  may  be  saved.  We  have  reason  to  believe  that  we 
press  hard  on  the  time,  when  they  shall  again  be  grafted  into  the 
church,  from  which  they  have  so  long  been  broken  off  by  unbelief. 
Let  us  earnestly,  and  frequently,  and  perseveringly  beseech  of  God, 
that  he  would  hasten  the  accomplishment  of  this  glorious  event;  and 
that  with  it,  he  would  also  bring  in  the  fulness  of  the  Gentile  nations, 
that  there  may  be  one  sheepfold  and  one  Shepherd,  that  all  Israel  may 
be  saved,  and  that  our  Redeemer's  name  may  be  precious  from  the 
rising  to  the  setting  sun. 

2.  From  what  has  been  said,  we  may  perceive — and  we  should  ob- 
serve it  with  the  liveliest  gratitude  to  God — how  much  higher  our  re- 
ligious privileges  are,  not  only  than  those  of  the  heathen  world,  but  than 
those  of  the  most  favoured  people  of  heaven,  before  the  coming  of  Christ. 
Like  the  heathen,  we  are  not  left  to  an  utter  ignorance  of  the  true  God; 
to  dark  and  doubtful  conjectures  about  a  future  state;  to  perplexed  and 
inconclusive  reasonings  whether  sin  be  pardonable.  On  us  "  the  true 
light  hath  shined." — On  us  the  sun  of  righteousness  hath  risen,  and  the 
gloomy  mists  of  error  are  chased  away.  Nay,  we  have  that  which  none 
of  the  ancient  patriarchs  possessed.  Not  even  Abraham,  David,  or 
Daniel,  had  as  complete  and  extensive  a  knowledge  of  salvation  in  all 
its  parts,  as  we  possess.     Of  this  it  may  be  truly  said — 

'•'  Prophets  and  kings  desired  it  long 
But  died  without  the  sight." 

Let  our  hearts  overflow  with  thankfulness  to  God,  whose  indulgent 
providence  has  so  highly  distinguished  us, — has  cast  our  happy  lot  un- 
der a  dispensation  of  divine  grace,  the  fullest  and  richest  that  the 
world  has  known:  And  let  us  remember,  too,  that  this  will  awfully 
and  justly  aggravate  our  condemnation,  if  we  perish  amidst  such  ad- 
vantages.    Therefore — 

*  This  discourse  was  delivered  Dec.  25th,  1797. 


Christ  the  Desire  of  all  J\^ations.  95 

3.  Finally — Let  us  be  urged,  on  this  occasion  and  by  this  subject,  to 
inquire  most  seriously  of  our  own  hearts,  whether  Christ  has  ever  ap- 
peared above  all  things  desirable  to  us;  and  whether  we  have  by  faith 
appropriated  him  as  our  Saviour,  and  embraced  him  as  our  all  in  all. 
The  word  of  life  assures  us,  that  "  to  those  who  believe,"  in  a  saving 
sense,  "  Christ  is  precious;"  and  christian  experience  will  inform  us, 
that  the  reason  of  this  is,  that  those  who  thus  believe,  have  had  such 
views  of  their  need  of  a  Saviour,  to  deliver  them  both  from  the  con- 
demning power  and  polluting  dominion  of  sin,  that  when  they  find  and 
appropriate  such  a  Saviour — full  and  complete  in  Christ  Jesus — he  is 
truly  and  inexpressibly  precious;  his  name  is  "  like  ointment  poured* 
forth,"  and  they  can  scarcely  repeat  it,  without  calling  him  precioua 
Christ.  Have  we,  then,  my  brethren,  had  these  views  of  our  necessity, 
rendering  the  Redeemer  thus  desirable,  and  issuing,  at  length,  in  that 
hearty  closure  with  him,  which  has  made  him  the  supreme  delight  and 
joy  of  our  souls.  If  this  be  the  case,  Christ  is  truly  ours,  and  we  are 
his;  and  we  have  reason  for  humble  and  constant  praise  to  God,  who 
has  made  us  "  accepted  in  the  beloved." 

But  if  the  Saviour  has  never  appeared,  in  the  manner  just  explained, 
desirable  to  us,  and  we  have  not,  in  this  view,  embraced  him,  we  are  yet 
in  our  sins — We  are  forbidden  to  speak  peace  to  ourselves  for  a  single 
moment,  in  this  state:  For  though  the  benefits  of  Christ's  purchase  arc 
infinitely  great  in  themselves,  they  will  profit  us  nothing,  unless  they  be 
applied  to  our  souls.  Therefore  let  me  say  to  every  individual  present, 
who  is  conscious  that  he  has  never  seen  in  Christ  Jesus  "one  altogether 
lovely,"  to  whom  his  soul  has  been  drawn  in  faith  and  love — you  are  yet 
in  a  state  of  unpardoned  sin,  and  that  from  this  state  you  must  be  deli- 
vered, and  that  speedily,  or  perish,  with  a  far  more  aggravated  condem- 
nation than  that  which  will  be  experienced  by  either  Jew  or  heathen.  Your 
education  has  not  imbued  your  mind  with  an  early  prejudice  against 
the  only  Saviour;  you  have  heard  of  his  name  and  of  his  great  salvation, 
and  he  has  been  recommended  to  your  acceptance,  trust  and  love,  by  the 
most  powerful  considerations — the  most  constraining  motives  that  can 
be  addressed  to  a  rational  being.  In  opposition  to  all  these,  you  have 
hitherto  practically  rejected  Christ;  for  remember  that  in  this  great  con- 
cern, neglect  is  rejection.  You  are  perishing;  Christ  .Tesus  calls  to  you 
and  says, "  come  unto  me  and  be  saved."  If  you  do  not  obey  the  call,  you 
refuse,  you  reject  it.  And  little  as  you  may  think  of  it,  this  refusal  of  the 
invitation  of  a  bleeding,  dying,  redeeming,  incarnate  God,  is  the  great 
damning  sin  of  unheliej\  committed  by  every  impenitent  sinner  under  the 
light  of  the  gospel.  Bethink  yourselves  seriously,  I  entreat  you.  Yiew 
your  guilt;  be  deeply  abased  for  it  before  God;  implore  the  aid  of  his 
Holy  Spirit  to  enable  you  to  repent  of  it  unfeigned;  and  to  help  you  to 
exercise  that  faith  in  Christ  Jesus,  with  which  alone  the  salvation  of 
the  soul  is  connected.  And  I  repeat,  that  if  this  is  ever  done,  it  must 
be  done  speedily.  If  you  do  it  to-day,  this  will  be  indeed  to  you  a  hap- 
py Christmas.,  in  a  far  better  sense  than  that  of  the  world's  empty  com- 
pliment. It  will  be  the  happy  day  to  which  you  will  look  back  with  un- 
utterable joy,  in  the  ages  of  eternity.  That  so  you  may  now  act  as  that 
you  may  hereafter  eternally  rejoice,  may  God  of  his  infinite  mercy  grant 
through  Jesus  Christ  our  Saviour  and  our  only  hope.     Amen. 


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